Naavah Ora crossed her arms. “We’ll meet with him, but I don’t promise more than that.”
Doran grinned. “Who put you in charge?”
“I did. If I die, you’ll have no chance of ending the threat from your Blood King.”
“He’s my responsibility, is he?”
She shot Doran a glare sharper than the daggers at his hips. “He’s Ceidiree. The problem started in Ceidir. If your people had killed him when he was king, we wouldn’t have this issue.”
“I’ll have you know, revolutions aren’t that easy to pull off.”
“How do you know?”
“Just something I heard.”
Levi smiled at their exchange. Wherever his life was headed, he was grateful to be with them.
Naavah Ora scoffed. “Let’s meet this friend of yours. There’s no telling how little time we have left.”
Neither of them argued.
The dryads were ancient protectors of the Verdaan forest, and the first to fall to the corruption. It seeped into the ground and roots, and straight to their hearts from there. Grass, trees, flowers—they all perished in their guardians’ wake.
Chapter 33
Doran
Doran handed their keys back to the innkeeper and led Levi and Naavah Ora outside. Despite everything, he smiled—he couldn’t wait to see Ash again.
He’d missed having to drag Ash’s sorry behind out of the messes Ash got himself into. He’d even missed the smell of sulphur and whatever other chemicals Ash had been toying with. Ever since they’d gone their separate ways, Doran’s life had lacked a certain excitement. Or was it constant worry over whom Ash had angered now? Whatever it was, it’d be good to have Ash along.
“How far to Z’rasie?” Naavah Ora asked.
“That depends on whether we travel on foot or pay a carriage driver,” Doran said. “It shouldn’t take more than three weeks if we walk and only stop at night.”
“We should save our money then. It wouldn’t do us any good if we ran out halfway there.”
Doran and Levi agreed, and Doran led the way down a narrow side alley and across another main road.
“Why can’t we follow the road like everyone else?” Naavah Ora asked.
“Because this way is faster. The main road snakes around in large circles, but the side roads are a straight way to the outskirts.”
When the ground turned muddy, Naavah Ora grumbled something under her breath but Doran ignored it. There’d be a lot more mud and uneven roads before they reached Z’rasie. The sooner she got used to it, the better.
“How do you know Ash?” Levi asked.
“I met him in Onwwe, and we travelled to Vaska together.”
“That’s it?” Naavah Ora asked. “You made it sound like you had more history together.”
“We do, but this isn’t the right time. Let’s get to his house first.” Ash told it better than him, anyway.
They left the muddy path to rejoin the main road and followed it out of the city. The houses didn’t stand as close together this far away from the market, nor were they in as good a condition. Many of the walls were dirty from bad weather and mud and could have done with new paint where the old layer peeled off. The cotton and wheat fields outside the city were close now, and farmhouses were scattered through the landscape. Everyone had at least a small amount of mud caked to their clothes.
The rich people who ruled Alt Võina lived near the market and the Gold Quarter. The people who worked for them lived here. Doran could tell the difference just by looking at his boots—thick mud like this was unthinkable anywhere near the rich mansions. Ancients forbid the merchants had to scrape it off their expensive shoes in the evening.
Naavah Ora walked up beside him and took a deep breath. “It’s nice to breathe country air again.”
Doran had to agree. Ever since he left his parents’ farm in Ceidir he’d preferred the anonymity of large cities, but he’d always be a country boy. Fancy mansions and dinner feasts weren’t home. A breeze in his hair and the freedom of an open field were. He chose to walk over paying a carriage when he wasn’t in a rush, and had improved his stamina considerably over the last few years.
“Ash lives just over here.” Doran pointed to a small house at the edge of Alt Võina. A sign advertising Ash as a trap maker and seller stood outside the door. It said nothing about the explosives he sold; he’d be shut down faster than a business stealing from its employees if the authorities found out. Alt Võina had been built on gold and business, and it didn’t suffer shady merchants. You either were an honest trader, or you hid the special stock.
Doran knocked. No one answered.
“Perhaps he isn’t here,” Levi said. “He didn’t know we were coming, right?”
“If he’d gone out he would have brought the sign inside.” Doran knocked again, louder this time. Something wasn’t right. Why was the door locked if Ash was open for business? Ash entertained an open-door policy, as far as Doran knew. “We’ll go around. He keeps a spare key.”
Naavah Ora raised her eyebrows. “He left you a key? How close were you, exactly?”
“It’s not like that. Ash and I don’t work honest jobs, in case you haven’t noticed. He left the key so I had somewhere to hide if the authorities came after me.”
A small bowl of milk sat next to the back door for the cats who flocked to Ash like he smelled of tuna. Doran disassembled a small pile of rocks three feet away from the bowl, and dug into the ground underneath until he found the small silver key.
“Let’s see what he’s up to.”
He unlocked the door and stepped into a tiny storage room. A random selection of items was scattered across shelves and tables. Most of them didn’t look like they were worth anything, but Ash had a way with words when luck was on his side. If Ash’s stories were true he had once sold himself to a whore—and she’d paid well too.
Levi closed the door, and Doran walked onto the shop floor. The lights had been blown out, but there was no sign of intrusion.
“What are those?” Naavah Ora pointed to the front door. Ash had tied small containers to the back of it.
Doran grimaced. “One of Ash’s creations. It’s a good thing I remembered the key. Your spirit army would conquer this world unopposed now if I hadn’t.”
“Are you sure he’s still here?” Levi asked.
“It doesn’t look like—”
Glass shattered, and the sharp smell of sulphur seeped into the room through the floorboards. Ash was below them.
“Ancients!” Doran jumped behind the counter and searched the floor. Ash would have hidden a secret door somewhere—Doran just had to figure out where. “Search the ground and the walls, there’s a secret ladder somewhere.”
More glass shattered, followed by Ash’s muffled but unmistakable swearing.
“Ash? Ancients, where are you?”
Doran hoped Ash had heard their footsteps above him. If Ash hadn’t realised by now that they weren’t guards, he wouldn’t come out until it had been quiet for at least two hours, and one look out the window told Doran they didn’t have the time to wait. Five armed guards—and he guessed the reason Ash was hiding—walked toward the small house at a quick pace.