Secrets of the Swords, Book 1

Chapter 5: Brewing Questions

Smack.

Suthe made a face and took her hand off her arm, examining the remains of the insect that had just attempted to snack on her. There were more bugs in this seaside city, and it made her long for the arid temperatures of her home.

Leaning back into the shade of the Rust District trolley station, Suthe adjusted her heavy book bag and returned her focus to the book in her lap. Ever since Alaera had shown her the way to the Choraport Grand Library a week ago, Suthe had been making trips daily, desperate to find information on the druiths. But she had been unable to read most books that covered her topic of interest, as they were written in either Noth or the language of a lesser Sylterran tribe. Suthe had pestered Alaera for too many translations already, and this book she had found today was one of the rare ones she could actually understand without help.

It had yet to explain Montmyth's grudge against her kind.

At least she didn't stand out as much, anymore. Over the past few days, Suthe had learned how to get around the city, and Alaera had been kind enough to loan her some spare Sylterran clothes. But time was running out. Suthe's "lost luggage" had yet to be found, and she was worried that Alaera would catch on to her lies at any moment. Her host did work for the government, after all. How much longer could she stay before her secret was found out?

A dash of movement in Suthe's peripherals had her looking up with a gasp at the rooftops. She could have sworn she had seen a figure on the top of one of the buildings. But all Suthe could see now were the long vines that crept down from window boxes and swayed in the wind, brushing against the rust-colored bricks that made up the buildings and gave this part of Choraport its name.

Warily, Suthe lowered her gaze and focused on the street before her. Pedestrians passed by unconcerned, and Suthe tried to calm her rapid heartbeat.

It's just my imagination.

No matter how hard she tried to reason with herself, though, Suthe still felt uneasy, and hastily gathered her belongings as soon as she saw the brightly-painted green trolley turn the corner down the street. When the trolley finally arrived, Suthe cast a last glance skywards before climbing aboard and handing her ticket to the conductor.

The feeling of being watched didn't abate until Suthe was inside Alaera's apartment building. Even then, she bounded up to the third floor as quickly as she could and pounded on the door.

"Alaera!" Suthe called, knocking again. "Alaera, it's me! Open up!"

"Lo mar'sah egrieyell!" The cantankerous neighbor from downstairs shouted. In the short time she had been here, Suthe had heard that phrase often enough to understand its meaning: shut your mouth.

Taking a page from Alaera's book, Suthe loudly stomped her foot on the floor in retaliation. There was a grumble from below, and then silence.

Suthe nodded her head in satisfaction, but the feeling waned as she turned her attention back to the apartment door. Where was Alaera?

There was a window at the far end of the corridor, and Suthe walked over to it, looking out for any sign of Alaera's return home. Thankfully, she didn't have long to wait—Alaera's unmistakable limp, combined with her tall wooden staff, soon became visible at the end of the street. Suthe didn't miss the way other pedestrians moved out of the way and cast glances over their shoulders after Alaera had passed.

There was one person in the crowd, however, who didn't seem to have any concerns about Alaera's differences. Suthe frowned at the tall blond-haired man following after Alaera, who was shoving impatiently past others in his haste to catch up with her. Alaera surely could hear him calling for her, but she seemed determined to ignore him. Unfortunately, her limp put her at a disadvantage, and just before she reached the apartment building, the man stepped in front of her and blocked her path.