CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

My mind spun with worry. I could have come up with a cover story. I should have. I knew that back when I sold the potions. My reasoning was justifiable, but somehow all of my words had failed me. Mallow thought the travesty of the situation was that I had gone against our agreement, but the thing that really worried me was how I had stumbled over my own words like an amateur. She was right to be disappointed in me, though not for the reasons she believed.

Dodging and darting past other people on the street became more and more of a problem as the path Mallow cut through the crowd grew more distant. The first few seconds of the chase everyone had been so stunned that I had had an easy run after her, but soon the streets were filling up again with people in her wake, whispering to each other with excited scandal. Kids would either come out and chase her cautiously or hide in their houses, noses and fingertips peeking around doorways as they watched, hoping to remain unseen. The ones in their houses weren't the problem, but it was hard enough keeping Mallow in my sight without having to constantly check underfoot to make sure I didn't trample a brat.

Two blocks later, she had pulled so far ahead of me, I couldn't see her anymore. That was one reason I stopped. The other was my lungs were scorching, and I had to lean against a stone fence to catch my breath. Breathing felt like tossing handfuls of water onto a fire in my chest. After a few moments, the fire did wane. I blinked away the sweat that had rolled down from my forehead. Chasing her like a dog after a shadow slink wouldn't work.

"Excuse me..." I said, controlling the exhausted wobble in my voice. "You saw the Moon Giant that ran through here, right?" I asked of a terrified young woman who had been hurrying in the other direction. She impatiently stopped.

"Yes?"

"What way... was she going?" I asked.

"I don't know, that way, toward the houses near the wall," she said, her face pinched. "I don't care how big this celebration is, having a fake Moon Giant like that running around is scaring everyone. Especially with it howling that way? Distasteful, repugnant."

"Fake?" I asked.

"They certainly wouldn't let a real one wander around unchaperoned!" she said, scandalized. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go let the authorities know what I think of this!" And with that, she lifted her dress a little so the hem didn't drag on the dirt, and ran away in a very unladylike fashion.

I continued to ask people where Mallow had gone. It was easy to tell which ones had spotted her recently by their dazed expressions. Most were helpful, but I soon realized I was getting conflicting reports. A man on horseback told me to go right at the small plot of flowering trees, one of the BROS from the restaurant helpfully suggested I go left. So I couldn't catch up through will power, and second hand investigations weren't helping either.

I should have stayed on higher ground. Then I could have seen several streets at once without relying on unreliable witnesses. I found a home made out of unevenly protruding bricks that had an assortment of crates stacked next to it. I climbed up the crates, getting me up to the second story, but I needed the roof. I shook out my fingers, and thankful Winsor had healed my injuries so this wouldn't be too painful, I dug them into the gap between the bricks as high as I could. I pulled, using my feet to gain traction. The grit of the surface bit into my skin, but I got a few feet higher. Another arm-shaking tug upwards and I was parallel with the third story windows. I was starting to think this was almost fun when the shutters next to me opened with a resounding thwack. A person didn't emerge, but rather a thistly broom. Me and the broom became quickly acquainted as it slammed into my face. I turned my head, and then it began smacking into my back solidly. I managed to hold on despite the shock.

"Stop it!" I protested, shielding my face with my arm. The other ached as it took on the job of solely holding me onto the side of the building.

"Help! Bandit!" She swatted at me again. The broom's owner was now revealed and was even more shaken up than the woman who had seen Mallow. "You'll not sneak into my house!"

"I'm trying to climb onto it, not into- Ow!" She hit me with more vigor. My grip loosened, and I fell backward, crashing downward into the pile of crates. They buckled beneath me, the wood splintering and splitting into a violent, jagged V.

"Ooooow!" I cried. I rolled out of it and plucked the splinters out of my shirt.

"Totally inappropriate use of those shoes."

I spun around to see the pudgy, snobby cordswainer from the shoe shop staring at me. He had a festival kabob from one of the fairies, an inflated and glazed Giant flower seed. He took a bite from it, delicately, and shook his head at me.

"You're not even using them on the ground anymore. It's getting to levels of absurdity."

"I'm trying to find someone." I snarled, half from pain. What was it with this guy that made my charm melt into acrid honesty? His over-trimmed eyebrows raised, and he tutted.

"This as a vantage point is no good. It's too low. It's the lowest part of Blythe."

"I know that, but she ran away around here."

"She? A love interest?" Bernard took another bored bite of his flower puff. The gunky sap stretched between his teeth. When he closed his lips I couldn't see him chewing anymore, but it was still gross for some reason.

"No, Mallow's run away," I said.

He swallowed hard, and his face of mocking amusement at my failure melted into one of concern immediately.

"Oh no, Mallow ran off? Poor dear, I've always had a fondness for Moon Giants and...what happened? Why? Is she all right?" His brows furrowed. He leaned in close, and I smelled the saccharine scent of the flower on his breath. "What did you do?"

What? What did I...? What?! What had Mallow been saying about me to this icicle?

"Nothing! I didn't do anything. We had... a business disagreement." I took a step back. "I'm going to keep searching."

"You're never going to find her climbing on top of homes." Bernard clucked his tongue. He finished off the candied stick. "There's too many people here for me to cast a spell. But, I still have access to the weather tower." He eyed me up and down distastefully. "Ah, I have a suggestion, and it's a plan that is much more solid than your foolish way of going about things. " He pointed toward the hill I had come down. From one of the wings of the manor house, there was a tall building with a large, webbed metal structure at the top. I remembered seeing it from my inn room window. My stomach swam, and I almost didn't hear what Bernard said next. "You give me those boots back, and I'll let you into the weather tower. It overlooks the entire city."

"Back? I bought these fair and square." I regained enough of my composure to be difficult.

"But it is so embarrassing to have someone like you wearing my work."

"What, because I'm poor? Mallow's going to be wearing your work too."

"Yes, well, that's different. She's special." He walked in a small impatient circle, crossing and uncrossing his arms. "You're a common Assistant, and I've never even heard of your master. It'll bring down my entire brand if people associate someone like you with it."

Ouch.

"Now I'm definitely not giving them back." It was a petulant reaction, and as soon as I said it, I began thinking of how to take the comment back. As much as I disliked this guy, I needed his help.

Bernard slammed his hands down at his side, hissing in a trembling rage. He wanted to hex me or hit me, I wasn't sure which. Inhaling, the color faded from his face as he mouthed numbers with no sound, counting down. When he was back to normal, he spoke.

"Oh, fine!" He dug into his coin purse and then handed me coins. "There, now you can buy another pair from some common cobbler." His small eyes considered me. "Let's go to the tower. The sooner you see her, the sooner I can get that embarrassing old work off the streets."

He never actually asked me if I agreed to this; the entire exchange had been more like an order, and I had the nagging feeling that I had come within an inch of getting beaten instead of bribed. Still, I wasn't one to question free coin. I would be able to buy new shoes and, probably being more fashionable, improve my pitch to customers.

"And off of my embarrassing old feet." I added in, pocketing the money. " all right, sounds like a deal." Being frigid had paid off. Best to keep in mind the hard sale for future encounters.

"Your 'old feet' are only embarrassing because they're attached to an unrefined oaf like you."

Bernard guided me back toward the manor, stepping three times for each one step I took. His legs were tiny and short compared to his rounded stomach. His clothes were well tailored and complemented his figure, but there was no way to hide that he was big even for a sorcerer. Yet, he didn't slow, or get winded. Running the shop must mean he was on his feet all day. He either ate excessively rich foods or was naturally fat.

The air grew chillier, and the ground had taken on a purple hue. We were now walking along the shadow cast by the tower. Looking up, it was a blue colored mass. Only after my eyes adjusted to the lack of light could I make out its features. It was nondescript on the outside, stone, even and sturdy, spiraling upwards. Taller than the manor house, probably even taller than the True Heir Inn (although with it still gaining rooms, who knew how long that would be true?). The top of it glinted in the sunlight from large metal rods that jutted out in a parasol framework.

We reached the side of the building, and I saw that steel slid down from the top, making a connection from the roof to the ground. Instead of ending in a spout for rain, it slammed into the ground.

"Is that a stilt to hold it up?" I asked Bernard, pointing.

He regarded the steel pillar driving into the dirt and then gave me a mustache obscured sneer.

"What? I pity your master. Even if he is lucky enough to have Mallow, he's still unfortunate enough to be cursed with someone as ignorant as you for an Assistant. My friends would beat you for being so inept."

In my head I ran through a litany of comebacks, such as, 'I pity your wife. Even if she's lucky enough to have fabulous shoes, she's cursed enough to have to share a bed with you.' Or, 'I pity your mirrors. Even if they are lucky enough to be framed in gold, they serve such a dishonorable purpose as to reflect one as ugly as you.' I bit my tongue and settled for waiting tersely, impatient for the answer to my initial question. When I didn't respond to the goad, Bernard jangled a key in the lock on the small door on the side of the tower.

"It's a lightning rod. It prevents lightning from setting the tower on fire. It doesn't always work, but it's much more effective than not having one."

The door swung open, and he stepped inside. He didn't even wait for me to follow before he began climbing the stairs. I hurried after and staggered to a stop. There was nothing in here but stairs. No small rooms, no shelves, no storage. There was only stairs, made out of stone, that circled upward in a dizzying spiral.

I closed the door behind me and began up the repetitive, circular incline. Every once in a while along the stairway, there was a small narrow window that allowed me to see out as the town got smaller around us.

"So... there's not one of these in every town. Are they hard to build?"

"They are. Only towns with sorcerers can make use of them," Bernard said. He didn't say the word 'sorcerers' with a swell of pride like Winsor did. His footsteps were soft on the stone beneath us. "Hmm... that's misleading. In some cities, Avalons manage them. It's a sorcerer's design though."

"Oh?" I asked. We were a few houses tall above the rest of the town by this point. Although I had initially glanced out the windows with curiosity, I had been wanting to avoid them more and more.

"Yeah, at least that's what Winsor says. I never paid attention in history lessons. Too much dreadful stuff about war and chaos, utterly distasteful."

"Winsor?" I asked. They were enemies, so I was surprised they talked outside of encounters like the one at the play.

"He's very interested in the old sorcerer lore. Unhealthily so. It's not forbidden... per se... but I can't imagine the Cosmotic Demicanter of Culture approving of the passion of his interest. You try telling him to talk of something more relevant like theater, song, or literature, and he gets even more unpleasant, if you can even imagine such a thing... Ah, we're here. "

We came out to the top of the tower, and he stepped out onto the stone. The sun beat down completely uninterrupted onto the balcony. I took a few steps forward and then gasped. I stumbled backward, crashing into the door to the tower. Bernard swung around and grabbed my hand.

"Careful! You don't want to go tumbling backward down that many steps," he said. His face blanched. "Assuming you even stay on the steps. We really need to install railing along the inside curve. I'm surprised they didn't after Goldwynn's Assistant fell all those years ago. It was a dreadful mess."

"It's... we're so high." I squeaked.

"Yes, you're always on roof tops. I didn't think—"

"There's a big difference between the top of a stall and this," I bleated.

"My, you are a coward," he criticized. He moved over to the balcony's edge and leaned over it, staring down at the city. "If you're not going to help me, at least close the door so I can cast a spell."

"Can't you cast it with me here?"

Bernard's expression faltered.

"I would... prefer not to cast when others are in the room," he said. "So, no..."

I closed the door and sat down on a step to ground myself. I tried to wipe out the image of Blythe lying so, so far beneath us from my mind. On the other side, Bernard talked to himself.

"Sky so vast and wide,

beneath your expanse, secrets hide.

Trust between us is securely sealed

if what I seek is soon revealed.

A mighty boon I must ask

if I am to complete my task.

Guide my sight

with a beam of light.

Show us what we seek,

make it easy to gauge at a peek." His voice was tense but focused. He tapped at the door. "Okay, come out."

I stepped back onto the balcony. Nervously, I edged along the wall until I got to one of the ledges. The sky had gone gray, clouds hanging heavy and blotting out the sun immediately over the city, although in the distance blue clear skies stretched on into the hills. I gasped.

"You did that?"

"Moving clouds is pretty easy, actually." He rubbed his hands together. "We train with soap bubbles in the bath from when we can first talk."

I imagined rainstorms, snow storms, and a year of sunless days on account of some sorcerer holding a grudge. I shuddered. It's a good thing there weren't that many of them.

"Sir Osoro's been working on keeping it clear for the entirety of the festival, though we're going to have a downpour afterwards to keep the crops from getting dry." He smiled. "Sir Osoro's very helpful, more than most Avalons. We're very lucky to have him in Blythe. He's actually one of my friends—" Bernard continued to prattle on. I had a hard time paying attention. This vista was so new to me, and here there was no way to shut the shutters and escape to the comfort of my bed to try and forget it.

Small farms lined the outside of the city, fertile compared to others on my travels. I was wondering which one belonged to the odd singing girl, when I found a break in the clouds. When focusing with all my attention, I distinguished it. One thread, like a single strand from a spider web, glinted yellow with sunlight. It traveled down, bathing one block in a shining golden glow. I watched for a few moments, and it moved ever so slightly.

"She must be on the move," Bernard said. "If you follow that, you should be able to find her."

"Thanks," I said. With relief I edged back into the building, but Bernard cleared his throat.

"Just don't take too long. I can't keep this spell up forever," he said, again rubbing his hands together. I ran down the stairs, keeping one hand pressed against the stone wall to keep from thinking about the fall if I slipped. My chest was stained with sweat by the time I made it back down to the bottom level. I had to stop. The stone felt cool against my back, and as I caught my breath, I picked out the single golden strand from the clouds.

I hurried after Mallow, following the strand, my head unnaturally craned up as I moved forward. I bumped into more than a few people, but as I got closer and closer, the insults and bruises seemed less significant. I was more jogging than running at this point to prevent myself from tripping and breaking my neck. My anger at Mallow was rising again like it did when she'd first got herself thrown into the dungeon.

The strand stopped moving, and each and every moment the base got wider as I neared it. It had settled near one of the town walls, a circle of fine houses with fenced gardens. Nearly there. The sun was coming down right behind that next row of homes...

The sky cleared. I watched clouds disintegrate into nothing. It was completely unnatural, and I shielded my eyes against the heat and brightness that blanketed Blythe once more. The strand no longer guided me, all being equally lit. People nervously joked with one another and took a few seconds out of their routine to observe the sky warily. I jogged around the corner.

She was not on the street, but I saw one of the gates open. Maybe she had gone into someone's yard.

"Get your hands off me!"

Mallow? Was Mallow shouting?

"Leave me... leave me alone!" I followed the sound of her voice, and the sound of a struggle. As I weaved through a garden I heard a scream. One of the brick walls buckled in the middle, the center section of bricks being pushed forward. A yelp of pain sounded. I was there, outside the fence.

"Mallow?" I cried.

"Dad!" Her voice soaked with regret. "Dad, I'm sorry! Help me! Help me!" I saw the top of her head over the fence. Her large white arm latched over the edge, and her hand reached down for me.

I jumped and grabbed onto it. I climbed over the wall. The world spun. She screamed, her arm twitching involuntarily. I was thrown against the wall. I fell, the back of my head bleeding. Mallow shouted. "Dad, help! Help!"

My head felt soft and hurt. Darkness swam in my eyes. I staggered past the peppering of my vision toward her. Colors became abstract and distant.

"Mallow," I cried. "Mallow."

(( Are they going to be all right? Read up next week to find out! 

E-book: Amazon: http://a.co/dt0i3Ym 

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/658059

And Print edition: http://a.co/32cMAIC

 ))