"I know the rules, I can take up to fifty chickens into the city at once!" The man shouted.
"Not if they're sick chickens. The last thing we need is for you to give every fowl in this city a deadly disease. Now make yourself scarce, there are others who need to pass into the city," the lead swordsman responded, hand on his pommel. He then turned to the boys, his hand never leaving his sword.
"King's mages. I doubt you would be so bold as to skip line if you weren't legitimate, but I still need proof that you are who you say you are. I've seen more than one street urchin try to sell staffs in this city."
Timothy smiled. "Ingo."
A flame sprung from the top of his staff and landed in his hand, dancing to an unknown song.
The soldier nodded and turned his hard gaze on Aidan. Out of the corner of his eyes, the young mage saw the first man dejectedly guiding his donkey and chicken-wagon out of the road, and Aidan couldn't help but feel pity for him.
He raised his obsidian staff towards the wagon. The chickens were indeed sick, fatally so. Their feathers were falling out and their eyes sunken. They would be dead within a week, and were already too diseased to eat.
"Saneo."
A blue light washed from the staff over the cages. As it fell on each bird, they began to stand, their eyes bright and alert. Aidan felt drained and tired, but the joy on the man's face made his act worthwhile.
The lead soldier smiled. "It's been a long time since I've seen a sorcerer that does anything useful with his magic. Welcome to Argentah, boys."
Argentah was just as busy as the road leading to it. A cobbled street ran through the entire city until it connected to the road on the other side. Every square foot of this street was packed with people, from the men selling bits of food at stalls to the shirtless children running underfoot. The wagons coming from one side to another weren't helping to decrease the chaos. One seemed to be broken down ahead, and was stopping the entire flow of traffic from the gates.
"We need an inn," Aidan said, feeling more and more nervous. Here, the people still refrained from bumping into them and gave them a certain degree of respect, but their bubble of safety had all but disappeared.
"What about that one?" Timothy asked, pointing to a two story building with windows facing the road.
Aidan cringed inwardly. The tavern could be considered shady at the best. The timbers were falling apart and the roof sagged one way. The sign above the door read "The Bloody Dagger."
They had no other choice though, they needed a room where they could watch the gates for Aaliyah.
Aidan sighed and walked to the door, hesitating for just a moment before stepping inside, Timothy right behind him.
The tavern was boisterous and loud, just as Aidan's mother had described them. Rough looking men sat around, and sometimes on, the round tables scattered throughout the room. Many of them were armed, and most were drunk to some degree. No one seemed to notice the sour odor that penetrated most of the room.
Aidan and Timothy pushed their way past some men who were having a drinking contest and came to the counter, where a potbellied old bartender was sliding filled mugs to his guests.
"I assume you sorcerers expect the best lodgings, free of charge?" he asked, his face unchanging. He was a fearsome sight, several inches taller than Aidan, with a huge scar stretching from his forehead around his eye and ending at his chin. His hand rested on the pommel of a short sword, the handle worn from use.
Aidan suddenly remembered that Aaliyah had taken their money.
"Well that's too bad, ‘cus you ain't stayin' if you ain't payin'," he said. The other patrons in the room had slowly begun to stop what they were doing and stare at the mages.
For a moment there was utter silence in the bar. Then, to Aidan's surprise, Timothy spoke up.
"How long have you had a lame ankle?" he asked.
The bartender raised an eyebrow. "Twelve years, but it will take more than an-"
He was cut off by Timothy, who had closed his eyes and started chanting something too quickly for Aidan to hear.
Suddenly, the younger boy slammed his staff on the floor and a blue beam shot from the top of the scepter to the man's leg. For a moment, Aidan could see his friend again, untainted by the goblin's magic. Then the feeling was gone, and Aidan was all too aware of the darkness that poisoned Timothy's soul.
"That leg should last you about ten more years. Now what about those lodgings?" Timothy asked, a smile on his face.
The bartender opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally, he pulled some keys out of his apron pocket and tossed them to Timothy.
"Second door on the left at the top of the stairs," he said, still staring at his leg.
The boys made their way past the silent, staring faces and up the stairway.
"What about keeping a low profile?" Aidan asked, his fingers nervously dancing around the blade release on his staff.
"Oh. I didn't think about it," Timothy said, jamming the key into the hole absentmindedly.
The room was as filth ridden as the rest of the inn, but it had a window looking outside.
"Why don't you take a nap?" Aidan said, motioning to the bed. It was slightly cleaner than a horse pen, but Timothy didn't seem to notice as he collapsed on it. Aidan watched his friend sleep for a few minutes before pulling a chair to the window. And then he waited.
As the sun set over Argentah, there was still no sign of Aaliyah or the amoghs who had pursued them. At some point Timothy woke up and went to the bottom level, coming up with enough food for five people. Still Aidan waited. When Timothy went back to the bed, muttering that Aaliyah had probably run back to her camp, Aidan didn't move. Part of the young mage wanted to give up and find a new way to get to the isle, but something kept him by the window, even when it was too dark to see and the city gates had been shut.
It was when he had almost dozed off that he was awakened suddenly by a bright light outside. He sat up suddenly, his mind reeling at what he saw. There was a man outside, probably about fifty years old, holding a torch in his left hand. That wasn't surprising, only a fool would walk these streets in the dark. What made the man different was the object in his right hand. A wand.
Aidan's mind exploded in hope. This wizard wore the robes of a master of his art, and held his wand with ease. His graying, round beard gave him the appearance of a friendly yet strong sorcerer, and his handsome face seemed to radiate wisdom and power. Aidan had no clue what a King's Sorcerer might be doing in Argentah, but he knew that this man's help could mean the difference between success and failure.
Aidan stood and was about to turn around when he saw another light fly up over the wall and into the street. The wizard didn't flinch.
A moment later the torch was followed by a huge, hooded man, and then another.
The assassins.
The third had just come over the wall carrying a large, dirty sack when the first strode to the wizard and began speaking in hushed tones, pointing back at the sack and past the walls.
Aidan felt a smoldering coal settle in his stomach. Whoever this wizard was, he was no King's Sorcerer. The young mage turned around and was about to wake Timothy when he hesitated.
He can barely think for himself. No, best to leave him out of this, Aidan thought.
Aidan pushed opened the door and made his way down the steps and across the inn as quietly as he could. The room was completely deserted, even the bartender had long since retired to his bed. The young mage pushed open the door as quietly as he could and crept through the entranceway, his blood rushing through his ears. He half walked, half ran to the other side of the street and in between two houses, where he could just barely make out the two men's words.
"So you mean to tell me you lost the Guardian?" the wizard said.
"No, we have a temporary setback. As I told you, the girl knows their location, she just hasn't been very talkative. We know your interrogation techniques are better than any other's. So will you help us, or must I tell my master that you are being … uncooperative?"
The wizard laughed. "Don't threaten me, you piece of filth. I know my standing with the Lord, and I know that you are no more than a grunt, a soldier sent to his death. But of course I will … talk to the girl. It has been a while since I have been able to test my skills on one of your kind."
The smoldering coal in Aidan's stomach became a burning one, until he started to feel the magic coursing through his body.
"Bring her to my lodgings. I will deal with her there."