it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, words supremely inadequate for the vastness of his sorrow. However, I understood what it was like to have a beloved place hollowed out by an occupation. That solidarity wrapped us in warm silence as we crossed the plaza.
We reached the wall, and Gabe motioned to where a stone arch opened onto a street. “This way.”
We slipped through the streets, moving from one streetlamp to the next as a faint mist drifted down from the sky and made my coat and hair damp. Moisture gathered in Gabe’s hair and beaded on his lashes. He looked at me often, but he didn’t say anything else.
We entered a part of the city crowded with pedestrians and carriages. Children darted in the streets, and sellers hawked wares from shops crowded under low-hanging roofs that shielded them from rain. Gabe grabbed my hand and tugged me forward into the chaos. My fingers tingled against his, and I considered pulling away, but I didn’t want to lose him in the crowd. I let him lead me until we’d reached the corner of the street, and then he looked at me and dropped my hand.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Habit.”
“Where are we?”
“I have a contact here,” he said. “He can find out anything I need to know. I’ll ask him to find Borde, and he’ll do it. He can find anything.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” Gabe said.
We entered an alley. At the back, next to where rainwater poured through a spout into a barrel, was a crooked blue door. As we approached it, the knob rattled, and then it creaked open. Half of a face peered out. I caught a glimpse of a tangle of long, dark hair, a flash of teeth as crooked as the door, and a thin and shrewd face. The young man couldn’t have been any older than Adam, I decided, and pain shot through me like a knife at the thought of him.
“Gabe,” the young man said. “And someone I don’t know.” He said it like it was an accomplishment that he’d identified me as such.
“Ferris,” Gabe greeted him. “This is Lia.”
“A pleasure,” Ferris said, turning in my direction.
That was when I realized he was blind.
ELEVEN
“HOW CAN HE work if he’s blind?” I asked Gabe as we left the alley. We entered the stream of people in the street, and I grabbed Gabe’s arm to keep from being separated. Gabe looked at my hand out of the corner of his eye, and his arm tensed, but he didn’t comment on our contact.
“Ferris hears things others do not,” he said. “The soldiers ignore him because of his blindness, and because of that, he has freedom to move and listen. He is clever and quick, and his ears are sharp. You’ll forget that he cannot see after a while, once you get to know him. It doesn’t matter, really. He doesn’t let it matter.”
The subject matter made me think of Jonn, and my chest clenched. He had been willing to risk death to change his condition, and the Sickness had not healed him as he’d hoped. And Ivy...
I could not think of it now. It took all my strength to focus on the scene before me.
We rounded the corner and reached a plaza that reminded me of the Plaza of Horses, except this one was smaller and the statues were all of men.
“The Plaza of Poets,” Gabe explained when he saw me looking around. “These are all famous Aeralian writers. Gerraris, Simalade...”
I didn’t know any of the poets he was listing, but that hardly mattered. What use did I have for poets?
A dry fountain sat in the middle of the plaza. Leaves and debris filled the place that had once held water. I stopped beside it and looked down. A few inches of brackish rainwater puddled in the lowest places. My reflection stared back at me. I looked Aeralian, with my long dark coat with the brass buttons and my knotted hair.
“Come on,” Gabe said. “I know a few more places where we can inquire.”
I followed him down the street. A cloud of steam enveloped us, and as we crossed the street, I thought I saw the flutter of a coat
“I’m sorry,” I said, words supremely inadequate for the vastness of his sorrow. However, I understood what it was like to have a beloved place hollowed out by an occupation. That solidarity wrapped us in warm silence as we crossed the plaza.
We reached the wall, and Gabe motioned to where a stone arch opened onto a street. “This way.”
We slipped through the streets, moving from one streetlamp to the next as a faint mist drifted down from the sky and made my coat and hair damp. Moisture gathered in Gabe’s hair and beaded on his lashes. He looked at me often, but he didn’t say anything else.
We entered a part of the city crowded with pedestrians and carriages. Children darted in the streets, and sellers hawked wares from shops crowded under low-hanging roofs that shielded them from rain. Gabe grabbed my hand and tugged me forward into the chaos. My fingers tingled against his, and I considered pulling away, but I didn’t want to lose him in the crowd. I let him lead me until we’d reached the corner of the street, and then he looked at me and dropped my hand.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Habit.”
“Where are we?”
“I have a contact here,” he said. “He can find out anything I need to know. I’ll ask him to find Borde, and he’ll do it. He can find anything.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” Gabe said.
We entered an alley. At the back, next to where rainwater poured through a spout into a barrel, was a crooked blue door. As we approached it, the knob rattled, and then it creaked open. Half of a face peered out. I caught a glimpse of a tangle of long, dark hair, a flash of teeth as crooked as the door, and a thin and shrewd face. The young man couldn’t have been any older than Adam, I decided, and pain shot through me like a knife at the thought of him.
“Gabe,” the young man said. “And someone I don’t know.” He said it like it was an accomplishment that he’d identified me as such.
“Ferris,” Gabe greeted him. “This is Lia.”
“A pleasure,” Ferris said, turning in my direction.
That was when I realized he was blind.
ELEVEN
“HOW CAN HE work if he’s blind?” I asked Gabe as we left the alley. We entered the stream of people in the street, and I grabbed Gabe’s arm to keep from being separated. Gabe looked at my hand out of the corner of his eye, and his arm tensed, but he didn’t comment on our contact.
“Ferris hears things others do not,” he said. “The soldiers ignore him because of his blindness, and because of that, he has freedom to move and listen. He is clever and quick, and his ears are sharp. You’ll forget that he cannot see after a while, once you get to know him. It doesn’t matter, really. He doesn’t let it matter.”
The subject matter made me think of Jonn, and my chest clenched. He had been willing to risk death to change his condition, and the Sickness had not healed him as he’d hoped. And Ivy...
I could not think of it now. It took all my strength to focus on the scene before me.
We rounded the corner and reached a plaza that reminded me of the Plaza of Horses, except this one was smaller and the statues were all of men.
“The Plaza of Poets,” Gabe explained when he saw me looking around. “These are all famous Aeralian writers. Gerraris, Simalade...”
I didn’t know any of the poets he was listing, but that hardly mattered. What use did I have for poets?
A dry fountain sat in the middle of the plaza. Leaves and debris filled the place that had once held water. I stopped beside it and looked down. A few inches of brackish rainwater puddled in the lowest places. My reflection stared back at me. I looked Aeralian, with my long dark coat with the brass buttons and my knotted hair.
“Come on,” Gabe said. “I know a few more places where we can inquire.”
I followed him down the street. A cloud of steam enveloped us, and as we crossed the street, I thought I saw the flutter of a coat
Similar Books
