Chapter 8
TY’S RETURN
Ty drew a ragged breath.
Slow down.
He shifted the sack of silver utensils to his other shoulder and tried to amble along. Ty could force himself to act calm, take steady breaths, but he could do little to soothe his racing pulse. Blood hammered in his ears.
The relief of knowing that Finneous would help them was a poor balm for what had happened in the bazaar. The red bruises on Ria’s face and arm and the loathing in her green eyes as she looked at him had wounded his soul more than he thought still possible. She had walked to the shop as if in a dream, guided more by Lavinia’s touch on her arm than conscious effort. Inside the cool dimness of the store, Ria looked through Ty as if he wasn’t there. It was all he could do to keep his voice steady when he spoke to Hahri.
“You can leave us here. Go back and keep an eye on our ship. We’ll be back before dusk.” Hahri’s eyes brushed over Niri as he turned and left.
The shop was empty, but Ty found Jistin in the back. The jaw-dropped, wide-eyed pause before Jistin hugged Ty with all he was worth was enough to make Ty smile again. He and Jistin were the same age and they had become fast friends on Ty’s visits to Sardinia.
“I need your father,” Ty said to Jistin’s questioning stare. Worry replaced Jistin's joy. He nodded, leaving to retrieve Finneous.
Finneous must not have been far. He came into the shop with arms flung wide, smelling of spices and sweat. Finneous was unchanged. Heavyset, he wore what looked like the same cream tunic belted with a blue sash over his rotund stomach as the last time Ty had seen him. His maroon pants were nearly obscured under the shirt’s long hem and the knee-high leather boots. The sable-brown eyes set beneath his balding pate crinkled in the corners when he saw Ty, and he embraced him as if he was a second son.
“I did not believe Jistin when he wrote you were here, boy. You should not have come.”
Ty shook his head, glancing briefly toward Lavinia.
“We need your help, Finneous, or I wouldn’t have come.”
“Of course, boy. I’ll do what I can, of course.”
“This is my sister, Lavinia, our family friend, Ria, and Niri. Finneous, we need to sell these goods. For your help, you can have twenty percent of what we get ... and Finneous,” Ty said, pausing with a look that was a cross between entreaty and apology. “We need to have it all done before the sun sets. You know I ... we can’t be here past sunset.”
Finneous blinked in the silence following Ty’s words, placing a hand on Ty’s shoulder. The grim light in his eyes contrasted with the unaffected smile on his lips. “You know you can count on me.”
Before they left, Finneous took the women up to his chambers above the store. It was the safest place Ty could think for them to be while they were in Sardinia.
“You will be safe here for the day. I will send up my son, Jistin, to check on you in a few hours. He cannot speak but can hear and read, so let him know if you need anything. There is food, fruit, dates, and water through the other door. Use the beds; sleep, eat, and relax, please. You are welcome here.” Finneous hesitated a moment, hand resting on the handle to the door. “I do not think I need to tell you not to leave?”
Lavinia, his brave sister, shook her head silently. Through the closing door, Ty glimpsed Ria sink to her knees, hands covering her face. Framed by the trio of arched windows, Niri had been a shadow, impossible to gauge.
Ty pulled himself out of his memories. His heart was still beating a staccato rhythm. The streets of Sardinia surrounded him and he was having a difficult time staying focused. He had nearly passed his turn. Now he paused.
Two narrow streets opened before him. One to his right and the other diagonally ahead, both led into shadows despite the midmorning sun. The one angling away was the faster route to the merchant where he was heading, but he turned right. He had once seen blood spilled in the shorter path. It had been on his third visit to Sardinia when he was just learning that the life he had fallen into was worse than he had imagined.
They could have gone to Portoreayl.
Ty pushed his second-guessing aside. It was too late for that. The markets in Portoreayl sprawled along the city streets. If they had gone there, they might have sold most things in a few days. But Portoreayl was deep in the Archipelago of Bellaia, closer to the Temple of Solaire and often full of Priests and Priestesses. It would not only have added days to their journey, but would have been a risk at least as great as Sardinia. At least here he knew the places to avoid, areas where dark tastes were catered to and no one was safe.
The longer route Ty walked ran between the backs of several three-story buildings. No doors opened to the street and few windows. There was no good place for an ambush, unlike the twists and side paths of the other way. Ty moved quickly as a high wall replaced a building. His eyes slid to the narrow tip of it.
He had walked that wall on his first visit to Sardinia. What was a high wall to a boy accustomed to walking the rigging of sailing ships? What were heights scaled with only a rope? Nothing. The buildings did not move like a ship in the wind and waves. The feats he had been asked to do had been easy.
It had been simple to walk the wall and climb a rope tossed over the balcony a story above. Easy to slip into the upper levels and sneak downstairs to unlock the door. He knew that the men he was with, the men who had found him in Portoreayl when he had left his apprenticeship, were going to rob the place. Now, Ty wondered if that was all they did. He wasn’t sure. They had told him to wait outside as a lookout. He had been innocent then. It had only been his first visit to Sardinia.
The alleyway ended in a deserted street of the medina. Ty darted a glance in both directions before he ducked through an arched entry across the way. It led to another narrow passage. He swallowed as tension knifed down his back. So far, no one had recognized him. It was one of the benefits of Sardinia. Few of those who did business in the markets stayed or lasted long. Very few were established or trustworthy like Finneous.
The thought of Finneous reminded him of Ria and what had happened in the market. The sick feeling of when he realized Ria was missing filled him again. It had been instinct that turned him to dive into the thicket of the crowd as he realized Causis was gone as well. Ty would have chosen the alleyway if he was trying to smuggle someone away. When he saw Causis and Ria at last, he had felt powerless to stop the hand aimed toward her face. They stood too close together in the narrow street for Ty to throw the knife he’d pulled from his belt.
But Causis had stopped and fallen back as if struck. It gave Ty the time he needed to grab him. But something didn’t make sense in his memory. Linked to it was the threatening image of Hahri with a hand raised to strike as he glared at Niri, who stood staring at the pavers.
Ty tripped on a loose cobblestone. He fell against a house, hitting his shoulder. He wrenched his thoughts from Niri and how strangely weak she had been. Almost in the same state as Ria or like her condition the morning they sailed into Dion.
Niri didn't need his help or protection. She was a Priestess.
Ty pushed the memory away, forcing himself to believe what felt false. He needed all of his concentration for the day ahead.
The passageway ended off a main street to the bazaar in a quarter mile, far from Finneous’s shop. To his left, a battered dark-blue door stood propped open from the dingy stucco building. The interior was dark, but Ty knew the proprietor would be there. Ty had never met Ennis, but he had heard of him. Finneous had not argued against the visit. Still, fear was like ice sliding into his chest. Taking a deep breath, Ty pushed his way through the door. A knife stopped him just beyond the threshold. He froze at the feel of the blade against his neck.
“Your business?” The voice was matter of fact, almost bored.
“I have silver to sell. I want to see Ennis.”
The knife stayed a moment. The sack Ty carried was prodded once, the silver inside clinking.
“All right then, he is out bac
k. Walk straight ahead.”
Ty did as he was told, not turning to glance at the man guarding the door. The skin between his shoulders itched as if the blade would strike him at any second. Sardinia had rules, but not everyone abided by them. No one did all the time. You just never knew in these streets when the random order of things would conspire against you.
The door ahead lay open. Through it, Ty found Ennis. He was a broad-shouldered man, strongly built, although aging. His skin was black but his eyes were milky white. It took Ty a moment to realize Ennis was blind.
Ennis put down a silver goblet he studied, running his hands along the intricate design on the stem. His bald head turned toward where Ty stood.
“Yes?”
“I have silver. I was told you were the best man in the market to take it to.”
“Perhaps. Bring it here.”
Ty placed the sack in front of Ennis, pulling open the string. Ennis pulled out the pieces, setting them on the table before him with deliberate precision. Serving spoons, an ornate fork, three small plates, a full set of cordial glasses, everything was studied, weighed, and measured by careful fingers.
“Yes, I can take these. All real, very good. I’ll give you four hundred.”
Some of the tension left Ty. It was a good price. A fair price, even. He nodded, throat dry. The sudden smile on Ennis’ face made Ty realize his mistake.
“I ... of course.”
“It’s okay. I heard your shirt rustle. Didn’t think you’d refuse, not if you were in Sardinia selling silver.” The warmth of Ennis’s smile faded slightly. He sighed and pulled out a handful of coins.
As Ty left the shop, the guard was not visible at his post, although Ty did not doubt he waited nearby. The weight of the coin against his hip where it was hidden inside of his shirt was a comfort. One sale done. One step closer to leaving. Ty allowed himself a moment to hope before he took a deep breath and began the journey back to Finneous’s shop to pick up another bundle.
Finneous had returned and left again before Ty came back for a second run. Jistin managed his father’s shop alone like the first time Ty had seen him.
“Finneous doing well?”
Jistin smiled with a nod toward a small bag on the desk. Ty picked it up, appreciating the clang of the coin. Finneous always managed better than Ty could ever hope. Luck found Finneous where it ignored Ty completely. He added his earnings to Finneous’s.
“Have you checked on my sister and Ria?”
Jistin shook his head. “Lunchtime,” he wrote. “They are still upstairs. Don’t worry.”
Ty blushed. He bent and picked up another bundle, this time of cloth and golden thread. Jistin grabbed his arm before he could leave.
The note Jistin pushed into Ty’s hand read, “Be careful. You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know.”
Ty turned and slipped out of the store.