Firebrand

Picking and Entering

The next day, in between classes, Martel prepared for his nightly excursion. He felt almost excited at the prospect of going exploring, even if his destination was the least appealing place for such an activity. While he knew that he was probably breaking a rule by entering the sewers – if students were allowed to go there, they probably would not leave it locked – Martel saw no harm. Nobody would know, and he had noble reasons for doing it.

He did require a few aids, as he had told Weasel. For that reason, he went to the nearest market. He bought only two things, as he only needed a little and also lacked the funds for more. His single silver coin from working for Master Jerome was spent. In addition, his debts had more than doubled. Leading an honest life had its challenges.

His supplies bought, Martel returned to the castle with a piece of white chalk and a small jar of perfume.

~

Knowing how late he would be up, Martel tried to get some sleep in the late afternoon with mild success. The difficult part came late in the evening when he would normally go to sleep. He figured it was best to stay in his room rather than draw any attention at such a late hour, but that also severely limited what he could do to keep himself awake. Sitting down on his bed would only lead to him lying down and eventually falling asleep, so he either sat on his small chair by the writing desk or else paced around.

He tried to do some magical exercises, but he was wary of expending his spellpower, just in case he needed it tonight. Every time he looked at his Khivan clock, the hands had barely moved. He spent some time examining the map he had made of the sewers, thanks to the surprisingly helpful librarian. Along with the white chalk, which he would use to mark his route, Martel figured he would not have any issue finding his way down there. Light would not be an issue, fortunately.

After a long wait, he finally looked out his window to see that the moon had disappeared behind the horizon. Assuming Weasel could be trusted, it was time to meet up. Martel dug out the cloth mask he had worn for his fights at The Broken Crown, hitherto languishing in the back of his drawer; right next to the sock with five golden crowns, in fact. Martel had not expected he would ever need the mask again, but it was not in his nature to throw out something in perfectly good condition. Using the perfume he had just purchased, he doused the cloth with sweet-scented oil. Lastly, he grabbed the map and chalk, ready to find Julia.

~

Martel quietly left his room and walked the empty hallways of the Lyceum until he reached the agreed upon meeting spot. He had no good answer if anyone should come by and ask the reason for his presence, so he stayed just within the workshop while occasionally glancing out at the corridor.

"Some lookout you make," Weasel's voice said next to him, making the novice flinch. Somehow, the boy had snuck up on him. He could have used his ability to sense heat, but Martel had worried that any use of magic might attract attention, the same way he could sometimes see when others cast a spell. Weasel seemed likewise arraigned to avoid attention; his clothes and skin were marked by soot, making him impossible to see in the dark.

"Let's just go before anyone comes," Martel suggested, turning around to lead the way.

They ventured deeper into the workshops, eventually reaching the hatch that led down to the waterways.

As Martel opened it, revealing the first inkling of the smell that awaited, Weasel raised an eyebrow. "This is only getting stranger."

Martel descended the small ladder carved into the wall. "Come along. The lock is nearby."

Martel ignited his magelight and they continued down the tunnel until they reached the grate door.

Stepping aside, the novice gestured towards the padlock while keeping his light flowing above them. "All yours."

Weasel dug out a small scrap of leather holding his tools. After choosing his picks, he began tinkering with the lock. "You must be the first to ever break into a sewer. Well, whatever you're looking for, it better pay enough that you can clear your debt to me."

"You'll get your coin, don't worry." Martel hesitated to say the next part, not certain how Weasel would take it. But broaching the subject now would give him time to get accustomed to the thought. "Perhaps even more. You see, I'm hoping to find a young girl who needs a place to stay. She's about the same age as your crew."

The little thief stopped poking his picks and looked up at the novice. "And you figured you'd dump her on my doorstep."

"A doorstep I helped you acquire, let's not forget. Besides, she's been on her own a while. She won't be a burden, she knows how to forage for food and such."

Weasel made some grumbling sound and returned his attention to the padlock. "I suppose we can talk about it. But don't you dare show up with her without the money you owe me."

"I'd never dare." Martel most likely would dare, since he intended to bring Julia straight to the copper lanes once he found her. But he intended to save that argument for when the time came.

An audible click revealed that Weasel's work was done. He removed the now open padlock and placed it in Martel's hands. "I'm out. Have fun dredging the sewers."

Quickly and quietly, the young boy disappeared back towards the hatch, soon gone. On his own, Martel placed the padlock in a corner by the grate door. No sense in hauling that around. He grabbed the cloth mask from his pocket and tied it around his head. The stench of filth disappeared, replaced by the scent of lilies. Lowering his magelight to illuminate the map in his hand, chalk in the other to mark his progress on the tunnel walls, Martel crossed the threshold.