| |
“That’s the jail.” Whitt pointed to a low stone building. Dim light flickered through the barred window on the front door. He turned to Oskar. “Are you sure about this?”
Oskar shook his head though hidden as they were in the darkness he doubted they could see him. “Not at all, but I have to get Lizzie out of there.”
“What’s your plan?” Naseeb asked.
“I’m going to blast the door open, find her, and escape. I need you two to cover my back while I do it.” He bit his lip, wondering what dangers he might face one he got inside. Were many jailers on duty? If so, what would he do? He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but they might force his hand.
Whitt’s jaw dropped. “That is the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Every idea is better than that idea. I thought you knew what you were doing.”
“Seriously,” Naseeb said. “We’d never have left our room if we’d known what you had in mind. Even if you succeed, you’ll be turned out for certain.”
“He’s right,” Dacio said. “We need to think about this.”
“Quiet.” Naseeb raised his hand. “I see Agen. He’s coming this way.”
Sure enough, Agen was approaching from the opposite direction. The tall youth was trying to keep to the shadows and failing miserably. Oskar and his friends exchanged looks. There was no need to ask why Agen was there. Apparently, he had heard about Lizzie and hoped to catch Oskar outside the city without permission.
As Oskar watched his nemesis approach, he was struck by an idea. He hastily whispered instructions to his friends, who nodded and smiled.
They all trained their eyes on Agen and Naseeb began to whisper the incantation for somnus, a spell that made its target drowsy. So far, he alone among their class had developed an aptitude for it. Soon, Agen began to blink and rub his eyes. The spell was taking effect. He stumbled forward until he was no more than twenty paces from their hiding place.
Oskar joined in with a spell called caligo, which created a cloud of mist around Agen. As soon as Agen was shrouded in fog, Whitt sprang from their hiding place. He covered the intervening space quickly and silently, slipped up behind Agen, and clubbed him across the back of the head. Agen wobbled and his knees buckled, but Whitt caught him and dragged him into the alley where the others waited.
Oskar turned to Naseeb. “We need ale. Quickly, before he wakes.”
Naseeb held out his hand. “Coin?” Seeing the expression on Oskar’s face, he winked and hurried away, returning in short order with a mug of ale. “I had to pay for the mug too. You owe me.”
“Fine.” Oskar took the mug and sloshed the ale all over the front of Agen’s robes, and then poured the rest down the young man’s throat. Agen gasped and began to choke. Whitt rolled him onto his side and pounded him on the back until Agen’s coughing fit subsided.
“You three hide,” Whitt said. “I know what to do.” The powerful young man hauled Agen to his feet, slipped an arm around his waist, and began singing loudly. Moments later the door to the jail opened and a skinny man with a sour face peered out.
“What’s with all the noise?” he snarled.
“Sorry,” Whitt said. “I tried to quiet him down, but he’s not himself.”
“It’s late,” the jailer said flatly.
“I know. I’m just trying to get him back to the Gates. I mean, the city gates.”
“The Gates, you say?” The jailer’s brow furrowed. “Come here.”
“Please, your Honor,” Whitt said. “He got some bad news today and went out on his own. My friends and I have been looking for him all evening.”
Agen began to stir a little. “Where am I?” he mumbled.
The jailer stepped out into the street and hurried toward Whitt and Agen.
As soon as the man reached the middle of the road, Naseeb dashed to the door and slipped inside.
“You two are too young to be seekers, and I know the rules as well as you do,” the jailer said. “I’m required to report this to your masters.” He stopped in front of the two young men and sniffed the air. “He reeks of ale, but you seem to be all right.”
“He’s never done anything like this before. I’m just trying to get him back so he can sleep it off. Isn’t there anything you can do?” Whitt asked.
The constable hesitated. “There’s nothing I can do for your friend. I’ll let you go this time, but I’ll need your name.”
“It’s Shaw,” Whitt said, providing the name of one of Agen’s closest friends.
“All right. Help me get him inside and then you can go.” The jailer and Whitt dragged Agen toward the front door.
Oskar watched, heart racing. Naseeb, the quickest of their group and easily the best at hiding, had gone inside to assess the situation, and with luck, find Lizzie. But even if he managed to find her and get her free, they’d never slip past the jailer now. Oskar might have to resort to main force after all. He was about to step out from his hiding place when Naseeb appeared in the doorway.
“Who are you?” the jailer barked.
“His friend.” Naseeb pointed at Agen. “We’ve been looking for him, but I see you’ve found him.”
“I found him and I’m keeping him. I’ll send word to the Gates and let the masters send someone for him. Now the two of you get out of here before I decide to detain you as well.” The jailer hauled Agen through the door and closed it behind him.
Naseeb, grinning, hurried over to Oskar.
“Did you see her?” Oskar demanded.
Naseeb nodded. “Just wait.”
A few minutes later, the door opened again and Lizzie walked out, followed by a tall, oily-looking man with a shaved head.
Oskar couldn’t contain his surprise. “Lizzie!” he called.
She turned around, spotted him, and broke into a grin. “Give me a minute,” she said to the tall man, who glanced at Oskar and smirked. She hurried over and took his hands in hers. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to try and break you out.” He felt his cheeks warm as he said it.
She smiled. “That’s sweet, but there was no need. We have an understanding with the constabulary. I’ll have to repay the guild for the bribe, but I’ll be fine.”
Oskar didn’t know what to make of this bit of information, but Lizzie only laughed at his confusion.
“I’ll explain later. I have to make my apologies to the guild. I’ll meet you tomorrow night.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried away.
Whitt gazed admiringly at her receding form. “That,” he said, “is some girl you’ve got.”