Rowan heard the guard shout out a warning the second he noticed Soran’s absence. He turned around and scanned the semi-crowded square, his eyes quickly picking out his student near the large, centrally placed fountain. For some reason, he wasn’t surprised when Soran took off as fast as his legs could carry him, a half-dozen or so city guards following in hot pursuit.
Rowan spared no time for thought; he was running before he even realized what he was doing. Trained to run lightly and to hug the shadows as if they were old lovers, he had little trouble keeping up while remaining unnoticed. A part of him set to memory the route he took, calculating distances and marking buildings with subconscious effort.
Soran was leading them deeper and deeper into the city. Streets narrowed and dog-legged, seemingly without rhyme or reason, and he began to worry that he’d lost Soran. But ahead of him the guards continued running, apparently still in hot pursuit. He found it difficult to take comfort in their diligence.
If he could only get past them to head Soran off… His eyes flitted upward to the overlapping rooftops of the buildings lining both sides of the street. He slipped into the next alley they passed and tried to quickly find the easiest way up. Luck wasn’t quite with him; he made a running leap off the side of an broken cart and barely grasped the roof of the building with his fingertips.
“Lord and Lady, how you test me sometimes,” he muttered, setting aside his usual piety in his frustration. He swung himself up onto the roof with some effort, and took off once again, careful to draw upon his magic and cloak himself in shadow against the half-moon’s light. Despair touched him when he thought he must have lost the pursuing guards and Soran, but his sharp ears eventually picked up the sound of heavy, running footsteps once again.
He nearly fell off the roof when he almost ran into someone. He stifled a cry of alarm when the small, dark figure before him instantly disappeared, only to reappear on a rooftop across the street. Spellbound, he crouched, squinting at the figure in the dark. Even shado masters could not move so quickly, and with so little effort.
Below, the guards had slowed as though uncertain. Several insisted they’d lost him, but one or two were sure he was nearby. Rowan cursed and remained where he was, praying for them to disperse. Finally, they split in two groups, one continuing onward, the other disappearing into a tavern several buildings down. Across the street, the figure on the roof slipped down into the adjoining alley and entered what appeared to be a tavern.
It was now or never. Rowan did the same, dropping back down to ground level and crossing the street, forcing himself to concentrate and keep himself as shadowed as possible. He was well aware of how suspicious someone of his social standing would be in a part of town like this.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite clever enough to carry that thought over into the inn. As soon as he entered, most of the conversation stopped, though the music—if it could be termed that—went on. Patrons stared at him with varying degrees of greed and disgust written all over their grimy expressions. Among this riffraff, he stood out like a shining god among mortals—or, more likely, a shining buck among lean and hungry wolves.
Another brilliant move, Silvertree, he thought, cringing inwardly. Outwardly, he remained as calm and charming as ever, even offering one of the naked dancing girls a smile and a wink. She gave no noticeable response.
It was no use questioning the bartender while in this fancy get-up he was wearing. He scanned the common room silently, his eyes watering as the opium-tainted smoke attacked his poor allergies. His joy at finally spotting Soran huddled in a dark corner was greatly ruined by the gigantic sneeze that overtook him at that moment.
He wiped irritably at his nose and hurried toward his student. “Nice work,” he said, his throat somewhat scratchy. “But the guards are still outside. They’ll be here any second.”
Soran quickly introduced him to the boy who sat beside him, saying that he’d offered to help him hide out for awhile, in exchange for a reasonable fee. It was ironic that Rowan, who loved disguises the way a whore loves make-up, was completely taken in by the “boy’s” appearance. He only nodded at Huck. There was no time to study the kid further, or even to ask Soran if he really had stolen something of value. He hoped the boy had learned enough by now not to pull it out and show it to him if he had.
“If you hide us you’ll be paid handsomely,” he said, giving Huck a steady look. Whatever ill intent the kid might have had planned was surely vanished by now, as Rowan was more than an able match for him. He might have looked and acted like a noble dandy, but he moved carefully and carried two swords with very scarred pommels.
~*~*~*~*~
Cas was busy helping Eremis barter with the shopkeeper at the Apothecary’s for a few herbs, so he paid little attention to the shouting guards just outside. When they returned outside, he finally realized that both Soran and Rowan had gone. Jeremy and the others told them what had happened, making Cas feel like a real ass for letting his best friend get into trouble like that and not being there to help him.
Eremis’s desperate pleas stopped him from running blindly off after him. Cursing repeatedly under his breath, he allowed his lover to lead him back to the Cracked Goblet Inn to await their return. Of them all, only Jeremy seemed unconcerned about what had happened, but that was to be expected. The otherworldly youth ordered them all dinner, and a glass of ale while it cooked.
Cas sipped morosely at his mug, all thoughts of his early conversation with Soran gone for now. He held Eremis’s hand beneath the table, his fingers squeezing it from time to time. Beside him, the healer tried to speak calmly and rationally to him, convincing him that either Rowan or Soran would surely send word eventually.
Amazingly enough, he was proved right. Eventually, a little urchin wandered into the common room, his gaze finally alighting upon the horns on Cas’s head and Jeremy’s brightly colored hair. He hurried over to them and handed a piece of rumpled parchment to Cas.
“This is for Rowan and Cas and Eremis and Kato and Alex and Jeremy,” he said. “You them?”
Cas nodded and handed the kid some coins for his troubles. “Thanks,” he said before bowing his head to read the message. He narrowed his eyes, but his best friend’s bad spelling didn’t help his own fledgling skills any. He frowned at the way the letters moved and jumped around on the paper before his eyes, irritated as always at his poor reading abilities.
“What’s it say?” he asked, shoving it into Eremis’s hands. The healer quickly read the message, which stated that he was hiding out at some place called Swine’s Tavern. It was enough for Cas.
“All right,” he said, standing up. The look he gave Eremis was almost a challenge. “I’m going find him. Who’s coming with me?”
