"No," Vlora said, "It's a noble." She held out her arm for Taniel to see the long gash running the length of it. It still throbbed whenever she moved her arm and it was only now starting to heal. "He did this to me when I scared his horse." The very thought of it made her angry.
"Which one?" Bo asked.
Vlora pointed to a man on horseback in the middle of the thoroughfare. She wouldn't forget his pockmarked face.
He was riding a different horse from last time and he wore a white uniform jacket with gold epaulettes. A sword hung at his side. His shoulders were wide, and his blonde hair was tucked back beneath a white and gold bicorn.
"That's Baron Fendamere," Taniel said.
"You know him?"
"I've seen him before. My dad knows him."
"Is your dad a noble?" Vlora looked Taniel up and down. He didn't seem like a nobles' son. Nobles' sons didn't wander around the city by themselves.
"No, he's a powder mage. He doesn't like nobles."
Vlora didn't know what a powder mage was. Before she could ask, Taniel went on.
"Dad says there's nobody crueler in the Adran nobility than Baron Fendamere. See that sword at his hip? Dad says he's a hab... hab..."
"Habitual," Bo prompted.
"Habitual duelist. He'll fight anyone he can. Dad says that on campaign in Gurla, the baron would kill women and children for sport."
Vlora spotted a steaming pile of horse dung on the cobbles nearby.
"Want to throw shit at him?"
The boys agreed, and they each gathered up a handful of manure and slowly stalked Fendamere down the street as he rode along at a slow canter.
Vlora ducked behind a pair of barrels and turned to her accomplices. "Ready?" she asked.
The two boys nodded, and they stepped out from behind their cover and each of them aimed and threw. Bo's shot missed, while Taniel's slapped into the baron's white uniform jacket and Vlora's smacked wetly against the back of the baron's neck.
The baron whirled, a roar on his lips, but Taniel was already sprinting down the street. Vlora followed hard on his heals, Bo taking up the rear.
"Can you climb?" Vlora asked between breaths. Not waiting for an answer, she swerved down an alley. "This way!"
She shimmied up her drain pipe to the roof above Hrusch Avenue. Taniel and Bo followed her up.
They lay low for some time, watching the baron rage in the street below, kicking over powder barrels and display stands, cursing those damned gutter rats. He looked everywhere for them, enlisting the help of several shop apprentices, before finally giving up and heading off.
Bo slipped away not long after, saying something about an older girl he meant to see.
When Bo had gone, Vlora led Taniel to her spot above the alley where the gunsmiths test-fired their muskets. The alley was empty, but the residual smell of gunpowder made Vlora feel happy.
They threw pieces of broken clay shingles off the rooftop, listening to them clatter in the alley below.
Vlora remembered what Taniel had said earlier about his father. "What's a powder mage?" she asked.
"You don't know?" Taniel pulled his arm back and threw a piece of shingle across the alley, where it hit the slanting roof of the opposite building and rolled back down, catching in a gutter.
"Of course I do," she said. "I was only joking."
"Oh."
She waited a few moments, then felt guilty for the lie. "I don't, really. I just didn't want you to think I was stupid."
"Well," Taniel said, "Everyone should know what a powder mage is."
Vlora looked down at her hands. He did think she was stupid, didn't he?
"I mean, so I'll tell you," Taniel went on. "A powder mage is a man who can manipulate gunpowder with the force of his mind," Taniel said. "He can breathe it and taste it and it makes him stronger and faster than regular men. A powder mage can shoot bullets over great distances, miles even!" Taniel leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "Powder mages can even kill Privileged sorcerers."
Vlora had been enjoying his story until then. She turned away and folded her arms.
"What?" Taniel asked.
"You do think I'm stupid."
"I don't."
"You do. Nobody can kill Privileged sorcerers."
"Powder mages can. They have."
"It's not true."
"They can! I swear it."
"How do you know?"
"Because my father is one, and he has killed Privileged before. And someday, I'm going to be a powder mage."
Vlora still didn't believe it. Privileged sorcerers were the most powerful people in the Nine. They could level cities with the flick of their fingers. Who could possibly kill one of them? She tried to imagine what it would be like to kill someone as powerful as a Privileged when a sudden thought sparked in her mind like flint striking steel.
She leaned close to Taniel. "Can a woman be a powder mage?" she asked in a whisper.
"Sure. My mom was a powder mage, too. When she was... alive."
Vlora tried to contain her excitement. She shifted closer to the edge of the roof so that her feet dangled over. "I'm going to be a powder mage."
"You can't," Taniel said.
"Why not? I thought you said women could be powder mages."
"Some women can. Only people with the talent can be a powder mage. Dad says it's very rare."
Vlora sniffed. "I want to be a powder mage."
"Sorry."
They sat in silence for some time before Taniel got to his feet. "I should get home. I've got school in the morning."
"Thanks for throwing shit at the baron with me," Vlora said.
Taniel smiled at her. "Let's do it again soon."
#
Amory caught up to Vlora the next week.
Vlora was in Bakerstown. She'd found a twenty krana coin in the street and planned on buying a hot pie to share with Taniel and Bo. The coin clutched in one hand, she had her face pressed up against a baker's front window, peering in at all the delicacies.
Someone grabbed her by the ear and jerked her backwards. Vlora felt a thrill of fear run through her. Had the Bulldog Twins caught up to her? Or maybe the cruel baron?
She was whirled around only to find herself eye to eye with the headmistress.
Her light brown hair, normally straightened and tied back with a ribbon, was loose and blowing in the breeze. Her eyes were narrowed at Vlora, and the corners of her mouth turned down sharply, her cheeks red.
"You stupid girl," Amory snapped at her.
Vlora had never seen her so angry.
Amory still had her by the ear. She shook her, hard.
"That hurts," Vlora said.
"Too bad," Amory said. "It's not the worst of it. You're going to get the stick every night this week. You remember the last time you ran away? I told you I'd lock you in the cellar for a month, and I meant it."
Vlora tried to pull away, but Amory had a strong grip on her ear. "You're not going to lock me up. You're going to sell me."
"Sell you?" Amory said. "Wait, what's this?" She grabbed Vlora's hand and pried it open to reveal the twenty krana coin within.
"That's mine!"
"Not anymore," Amory said, tucking it in her pocket. "You probably stole it, you little brat. It's mine, now, for all the trouble you caused me. Now come along without a fuss."
"No."
"No? Don't make me beat you in the street! And don't even try to run," she said when Vlora tried to jerk away. "I know you've been sleeping at the Talien Square Abbey. You've got nowhere left to hide."
"You're going to sell me to an old man!"
"I'm not going to sell you." Amory looked toward the sky, as if beseeching Kresimir, then fixed her gaze over Vlora's shoulder.
She did that whenever she was lying.
Amory began to pull Vlora down the street. Vlora let herself sag, falling to the ground as a dead weight.
"I'll drag you the whole way home," Amory warned, and began to do just
that.
Vlora jumped up suddenly and kicked Amory in the shin as hard as she could.
Amory squealed and let go of Vlora, clutching at her leg. "Brat! That's two months in the cellar!"
Vlora was already running. She had outrun the Bulldog Twins many times. She knew she could outrun Amory.
It wasn't until she was half way to the Talien Square Abbey that she remembered what Amory had said. The headmistress knew where Vlora had been sleeping. It would be the first place she'd look, and though the abbess didn't like Amory she would have no choice but to hand Vlora over to her.
Vlora had no place to go, and Amory had taken her money.
#
For the next four days, Vlora slept on the roof tops above Hrusch Avenue.
The days were pleasant but the nights were cold and Vlora knew that winter would come in just a few months. She would freeze to death without a place to go.
She loathed the idea of returning to Amory. She would rather die in the snow and ice.
She was hungry every day without the bread that she used to get from the abbey. She knew what it was like to go a day without food—Amory made her do it all the time—but her stomach tied in knots the second day, and the third day she was shaking and weak.
At the end of the third day an apple cart overturned on Hrusch Avenue, and Vlora was able to get there before the Bulldog Twins, snatch up several big, red apples and carry them in her skirts back to her hiding spot.
It was on the fifth day that she spotted Taniel in the street. He was strolling along, wearing his school uniform, and looking inside barrels and under carts as if he were trying to find something.
Vlora scanned the streets for the Bulldog Twins, but there was no sign of them. Just as she was about to call out to Taniel, someone else caught her eye, causing her to duck down.
It was the cold-eyed gentleman. The one who wanted to purchase her from Amory.
He stood beside the door of a gunsmith's shop, speaking quietly with the gunsmith. His hands were clasped, back straight, and unlike that day two weeks before he was now wearing a sharp, dark blue uniform with silver trim—the uniform of an Adran army officer—and he had a small sword at his side and a pistol tucked into his belt.
Vlora poked her head out of her hiding spot. Taniel was further down the street, and the gentleman's back was to her.... She waited a moment, and the gentleman suddenly nodded to the gunsmith and then began to head down the street, away from Vlora.
She waited until he'd entered shop further down the avenue before calling to Taniel.
Taniel looked around in confusion, then up to her. He waved.
Vlora shimmied down her drain pipe and stopped in the alley, suddenly conscious of her dirty state. Her uniform was torn and muddy, her face unwashed for these four days, and her hands shook a little from hunger.
She couldn't let Taniel see her like this! She'd told him that she wasn't a street girl....
It was too late. Taniel came into the alley and he grinned at her. "Hi Vlora."
"Hi." She found the grin funny on his normally serious face, and she realized that dirty clothes were something Taniel wouldn't care about. It made her happy. "Were you looking for someone?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah," Taniel said. "Bo is hiding somewhere. He said that if I find him before he's finished his fruit cake, he'll share it with me." Taniel seemed doubtful that he'd manage it. "He eats pretty fast, though."
"I could help," Vlora said.
"I'll give you some of the cake if you find him," Taniel said.
Vlora nodded, trying not to seem too eager.
They rushed into the street and began checking everywhere that a boy could conceal himself. Vlora knew all the best hiding spots—she'd used them to avoid the Bulldog Twins. She checked the old wine cask in the third alley, and under the wooden steps in front of Durn's Smithy. She even checked back up on the rooftops.
They both kept an eye out for the Bulldog Twins, and Vlora watched especially for the cold-eyed gentleman. She saw him once, but he was leaving Hrusch Avenue on foot and so she didn't worry too much.
Taniel finally sat down on the raised walk, his chin resting on one palm. "Bugger," he said. "I can normally find him. He probably cheated." He nodded at Vlora, as if it was decided. "Bo likes to cheat. He says that people who play fair always lose."
Vlora nodded back, but she was feeling sick. All the running around had reminded her how hungry she really was, and the promise of fruit cake had made her hopeful.
Her chest suddenly heaved, and she found herself fighting off tears. She knew she had to go back to Amory.
She'd have to take her punishment, locked in a dark cellar for two whole months. Amory might even sell her to the cold-eyed gentleman.
But at least Amory would feed her.
"Are you all right?" Taniel asked.
Vlora rubbed her nose on the back of her sleeve. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah." She wasn't going to show Taniel her weakness. No one liked a weak child.
"Are you hungry?" Taniel asked.
Vlora wanted to jump up and scream 'yes,' but she just shrugged her shoulders. "A little."
"There's a meat pie vendor around the corner," Taniel said. "I could go get some money from my dad and then we could share one."
Vlora hugged herself, wondering if Taniel could see inside her head. How could he know she was so hungry? Was it that obvious?
They began to walk toward the end of Hrusch Avenue, but Taniel suddenly stopped, ducking to one side.
"The Bulldog Twins?" Vlora asked, joining him in a smithy doorway.
"No," Taniel said. "It's Baron Fendamere. See? That's his coach."
The one-horsed coach sat at the end of the avenue. It was black with gold trim, and had running boards along both sides and a driver cloaked in crimson sitting up on the coach box. Baron Fendamere's pack-marked face stuck out of one window, and a gunsmith brought out a long brown package, tied with white string, and began to lash it to the roof of the coach.
"Do you want to get him?" Taniel asked.
"Maybe we should just go get a meat pie." The cut down Vlora's arm had finally healed, leaving just a wide, pink scar behind it. She did want to do something to the baron, but she wanted to eat more.
"Wait here," Taniel said.
He returned a moment later with a long steel bar, like the kind Vlora had seen through the windows of the smithies that gunsmiths used to make musket barrels. Taniel could barely carry it, but he had a mischievous grin on his face.
"Watch this," he said.
The baron's coach was moving now, coming toward them down the cobbles. Taniel jumped into the street and, as the coach moved past, thrust the steel bar into the spokes of the back wheel.
The wheel suddenly stopped and several of the spokes snapped, the coach lurching forward and then coming to a skidding halt as the driver reined in the horse. The door to the coach burst open and Baron Fendamere appeared, his pock-marked face red with anger.
Taniel took off down the street.
Vlora was just three steps behind him when she felt someone grab her hair. Her legs came out from under her as she was roughly jerked backward.
She stared up into the baron's eyes, seeing the promise of violence within them. She tried to pull away, but he had her firmly by the hair.
He stank of sweat and strong perfume.
"Got you," the baron said.
He threw her to the ground and put his boot on the back of her neck. Vlora's face pressed against the hot cobbles, and she heard a whimper escape her mouth. Further down the street, Taniel had turned to look and now stood, mouth agape.
"You're next, boy," the baron yelled.
Taniel ran.
"Get another coach," the baron said to his driver. "Hop to it, man. Commandeer one if you have to, I'm not standing in the streets with these mongrels any longer."
Vlora felt the boot press down hard against her neck, and then the weight was gone and the
baron jerked her to her feet.
"Don't think I don't remember you, girl," he said, tightening his grip on the arm that still bore the scar he'd given her. "You startled my horse and then threw shit at me, and now you've broken my carriage..."
Vlora screamed and bit his wrist.
The baron let go just for long enough to crack her across the jaw with the back of his hand. "Scream all you want, girl. No one is going to help you." He leaned in to her, close enough that she could feel his hot breath, reeking of wine, against her neck. "You're going to be great sport for my dogs, girl. I'm going to take you out into the country tomorrow and watch as they tear you apart."
A coach clattered down the street, the driver yelling for people to move out of his way, and pulled up beside the ruined coach. The driver leapt down and opened the door for the baron.
Baron Fendamere took Vlora by the back of her neck and threw her violently into the cab. Vlora immediately scrambled for the opposite door, fumbling for the latch, but the baron leapt in behind her and pushed her onto one of the benches.
"You've got spirit, girl. You're going to give my dogs a chase." He thumped his fist on the ceiling. "Maybe I'll cut off one of your feet first, and watch you hop across the field as they come after you."
The baron looked out the window, his eyes far away and a smile on his lips.
"Damn it, man," he said suddenly, thumping on the roof of the coach again. "Why aren't we moving?"
The driver said, "There's a boy in front of the horse, sir. He won't move."
"Run him down, then," the baron bellowed.
A voice called out from the street, steady and cold above the racket of the city.
"If you run over my son you'll be dead where you sit. Baron Fendamere, step out of the coach, if you please."
The baron leaned forward and slapped Vlora, leaving her ears ringing. "Stay here," he said, kicking open the door. He raised his voice to address the man outside. "Who the pit do you think you are?"
"You know me, baron."
"Oh," the baron said, stopping just outside the carriage. "You."
There was a noise at the opposite door of the coach and it suddenly opened. Taniel and Bo stood there, eyes wide. Vlora could have sobbed with joy.
"Come on, Vlora," Taniel said.
She ducked outside with them and crept away from the coach. When they'd gotten far enough, Vlora broke into a run, only to come up short at Taniel's shout.