Chương 17: Chapter 16: Mistress of the Streets

—Kindness is repaid with kindness— Kaela said, her voice now relaxed, carrying a hint of something that could be gratitude or simply the warm exhaustion of the afternoon. She stood up, rubbing the lingering sensation of the anurhy's cool, soft belly from her palms. —And since you still look so lost in this town... I'm going to give you a gift. One that has saved many women. She brushed the dust off her rear and legs with sharp, practical swats. —Come with me.

Though I don't think the little anurhy is coming— she added, glancing at the creature which, as if it had heard her, was beginning to crawl back toward the shore. —He never usually does. Selena stood as well, feeling a strange warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with the sun. The smile she gave Kaela was small, but genuine. —Then let's go. I'm behind you. They walked to where the blanket lay dry. Kaela picked it up, folded it with precision, and tucked it into her bag.

Then, she pulled out the small cloth pouch where coins clinked. Her expression turned serious, businesslike. —By the way— she said, counting with agile fingers, —it was two hard pennies in total. I spent ten soft ones on the bread and the small jar of milk. She separated some smaller, paler coins. —Therefore, we each got fifteen soft pennies— She reached out and placed the five warm, slightly grimy coins into Selena's palm. —Clear accounts make for strong friendships.

This time, her smile was frank, stripped of irony of a pact sealed in copper and trust. Selena nodded and tucked the pennies into the hidden compartment of her bag alongside the silver crown, feeling her small treasure grow. She followed Kaela as they crossed the wooden bridge. The anurhy, true to its nature, slid into the water with a soft splash and began to swim downstream, its dark green silhouette soon vanishing among the shadows of the willows.

They walked in silence, moving away from the stream and back into the labyrinth of alleys in the West Ward. The sun was beginning to dip, lengthening the shadows and painting the adobe walls in shades of gold and purple. After a few minutes, Kaela slowed her pace and, with an almost imperceptible tilt of her head, signaled Selena to approach a corner. There, in an irregular clearing between two half-ruined shacks, stood a group of men.

They had improvised a table from an old door propped up on two stumps; around it, sitting on rocks or directly on the ground, five individuals drank from horn cups. In the center of the table, a handful of coins and some crudely carved white-wood dice shimmered under the slanted light. The air smelled of sweat, cheap spirits, and coiled tension. Kaela and Selena crouched down, hiding behind a pile of dry firewood. From there, they watched from the corner of their eyes.

—They're playing Pairs— Kaela whispered, her hot breath brushing Selena's ear. —Madness. They usually gamble away their entire month's wages on these things. I once saw a man bet as much as four copper crowns. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. She paused, as if still shocked. —Can you believe it?" Selena nodded, her eyes scrutinizing the players' faces: weathered, with vacant or feverish stares, some with jaws clenched in concentration or despair.

—Yes— she murmured in response. —I'm sure they can play for much more than that. I've seen it. They even gamble for what they don't have. —That's right— Kaela confirmed, her voice a thin thread of sound thick with contempt. —The worst is when they mix it with root-liquor. Some play to the death, just so they can buy a bit of dream-sap afterward. She gestured with a slight movement of her chin toward the sturdier adobe house at the back of the clearing.

It was whitewashed, though the lime was peeling away in tatters, and its door was made of thick wood with heavy ironwork. —Inside that house the white one they sell everything. The washerwomen by the stream say they are 'The Black Padlock Guild.' She lowered her voice even further, until it almost vanished.

"Made up of thieves, kidnappers... and so many other dangerous people." Selena felt a shiver. It was the concrete, sharp dread of organized human malice. The men gambling, the silent house... they were the rotting arteries of a sick social body. Kaela took a firm hold of the hem of Selena's dress and tugged gently, leading them away from the corner. They walked quickly, turning through even narrower alleys until the landscape changed again.

The shacks gave way to better-preserved adobe houses, some even boasting small courtyards enclosed by palisades. And then, before them, the guards appeared. There were two of them. They wore armor of hardened, boiled leather, with metal reinforcements on the shoulders and chest. They bore no crest, only diagonal bands of white and red painted on their shoulders. From their thick leather belts hung a bronze longsword with a simple hilt on one side, and a shorter dagger on the other.

They stood straight and impassive, guarding the entrance to a wider, busier street. Their gazes swept the surroundings with a weary but alert indifference. —As you can see —Kaela whispered, ducking behind an empty barrel and pointing with subtle fingers— they only watch up to here. That house back there, the one with the coralline door and iron hinges, belongs to the tax collector and assessor of the West Ward. Her voice tensed. —If we run into the guards... it's better to run.

She sighed, a sound heavy with bitter experience. —In the best-case scenario, they beat us for being insolent or for wandering where we shouldn't. If you're a serf... they'll likely return you to your master, or you'll be judged without rights, like what happened to many women I knew— Her gaze dropped to the dust on the ground for a moment, remembering faces and truncated stories. Then, she looked up and fixed her dark, stern eyes on Selena's. —And if you're a free woman, like me...

the Mayor's council will judge you. But believe me, Selena, many end up dead while waiting in the dungeons, before they even see a trial. Jail fever, an 'accidental' fall down the stairs... She left the sentence hanging, more eloquent for what she didn't say. Having delivered her most valuable warning, Kaela grabbed her dress again and led her, this time at a faster pace, toward a more open side street where the sky between the rooftops showed an ever-deepening blue. —Now— Kaela said, looking up.

—We must head back. Look at the sun. The orb, massive and reddish, hung just over the edge of the rooftops, bathing everything in a golden, melancholic light. —Anya is going to lock us out if we're late— A sudden, nervous, and almost cheerful laugh escaped her. —I hope the Flow has a spot kept for us! And without another word, she took off running. Selena followed her, her heart accelerating to the beat of her footsteps.

At first, she ran clumsily, fearing she might trip, fall, or that her new legs would betray her at the crucial moment. But soon, guided by Kaela's agile silhouette, snaking through the alleys like a familiar shadow, the fear dissipated. Her muscles responded, her breathing found a rhythm. Seeing the wild, carefree smile Kaela flashed her as she glanced back, a wave of something like euphoria washed over her. It wasn't happiness.

It was the sensation of being alive, of moving, of escaping of having a destination, even if only a nightly shelter, and someone who, against all logic, seemed willing to run by her side.