“We don't have time for this,” Behast said.
“He's right,” Prastian said. “Something's wrong here, and we've got to find out what it is and what happened to the previous team that was sent here.”
“I was just trying to—”
“I know what you were trying to do, Hellsfire. In normal times, I would applaud you for it and even be as charitable as you. We haven't that luxury now. In all my visits to Alexandria, I've never seen conditions this bad. King Furlong wouldn't allow it. We can help the most by finding out what’s behind this.”
I let go of my purse and sighed, feeling my anger and flame subside. He was right. This wasn’t why I came here, and my money would only help a few people for a short time. My vision had sent me here, but it was going to take more than magic to figure out what was wrong in Alexandria. I was suddenly very glad to have the elves with me.
“What can we do, Prastian?” I asked.
Prastian kept his eyes in front, trying not to dwell on the misery around us. “We do what King Sharald sent us to do. If the opportunity arises, we do more.”
“All right. I'll follow your lead.”
I glanced one last time at the mother and her child. Our eyes met, and she cried out for my help and some coin. I shook my head and said I was sorry. She spat at my feet. I bit down on my lip and turned my head away.
We continued on. As we moved up toward the castle, our surroundings became more prosperous—clearly the homes of merchants and craftsmen. The buildings were square and utilitarian, as if everything had to be useful and practical, and no one had time for frippery. Maybe that was what life was like when your whole reason for being was to fight a war that never ended. Even here, though, there were signs of decay and disrepair—crumbling mortar, sagging roofs, and peeling paint. As we passed a tavern, Prastian said softly, “I don’t like this.”
“Don’t like what?” Demay asked.
Prastian lowered his voice even further. “The taverns shouldn’t be full at this time of day. And many of these men are soldiers—you can tell by their bearing and the way they move. They should be on duty—either here in the city, or out on patrol. Why are they out of uniform, with nothing to do?”
I stared at the patrons at the courtyard tables. Most of them looked drunk, though it was still well before sunset, and they were not happy drunks. They held onto their mugs too tightly. They nursed their drinks, staring sullenly into them instead of buying more. No one joked; no one laughed.
“Should we go talk to them, Prastian?” I asked.
“Later, if we have the chance. I want to see the castle and the condition it’s in, and hear what King Furlong will say.”
The closer we got to the castle, the better things looked. The homes were taller, stronger, and sturdier, as most of them were made of stone. Gates surrounded a few of them. When we passed a portly man with hired guards in tow, I realized we must be in the wealthy section of Alexandria, where the nobles lived.
We walked through a large square. In the center was a statue of Alexander, the city’s founder, fighting an ogre and two goblins. It was an amazing sculpture, showing the fierce determination that had characterized Alexandria and its people ever since. But the surrounding grass was yellow and overgrown, and bird droppings decorated Alexander’s face, as if no one cared any longer about upholding his legacy. My stomach felt cold, and my fear for Krystal increased.
Right outside the castle gates, one more building caught my eye. It pulled at me, forcing me to stop. It was the temple of the four gods. The low rectangular building looked ancient, as ancient as the castle, but it was the only clean, sparkling thing I had seen in the entire city. The sun reflecting off its shining alabaster walls nearly blinded me. Etched into the white pillars lining the entrance were the gods’ symbols, representing the different kinds of mana. While the temple was beautiful in its own right, no one but a wizard would sense the magic beating in the symbols. I took a step forward, drawn to the god Emery’s symbol of fire. Someone tugged on my sleeve.
“Hellsfire,” Demay said.
“What? Oh.” I snapped out of my trance. Before I turned away from the temple, I saw that the brothers and sisters who served the gods were on the steps, handing out bread. I smiled, glad to see that there were still those trying to help.
When we approached the castle gates, we were challenged by the Castle Guard blocking our way.
“State your business,” one of them said.
“We’re here to see King Furlong,” Prastian said. “Sent as a delegation from King Sharald.”
The guard glowered at Prastian, and for a moment I thought they would refuse us entry. Then one of his companions stepped forward. “Prastian! It’s been a long time since I last saw you.”