Chapter 19: Low Street (2)

As he passed the fountain, he looked down at some junk laid out on a tarp in front of it, tended by a smudge-faced girl who couldn’t have been more than ten years old. He was going to simply walk by when something caught his eye, a dolphin-shaped pendant carved from driftwood. The craftsmanship wasn’t amazing, but it obviously wasn’t the work of a complete amateur.

Stopping, he knelt and picked up the pendant.

“Your work?” he asked the girl.

She nodded.

He turned it over in his hand. His sister Ahassunu was only eight years old, but she loved both jewelry and dolphins. She would definitely like this pendant.

“How much?” he asked.

“Fifteen minas,” the girl squeaked back.

Xerxes tried not to smile. Glancing at the two mages and seeing that they were already entering the street, he lowered his voice and said, “I was born around here, you know.” Gesturing vaguely with his head, he said, “Around the corner from Shellburn Way. You know that little dead end with the scraggly tree and the rock that looks like a big shell?”

“By the old soup-seller lady?” the girl asked.

He grinned. “Yeah, over there. Anyway, I want to buy this for my sister, and I also want to help you out. But I know it’s not worth fifteen minas….”

She averted her eyes, and at the same time, he saw the faintest of smiles at the corner of her mouth. “Two minas,” she said.

She’d take one mina if I pushed hard, he thought. Digging into his money pouch, he counted out three minas. “Here, take an extra.”

“Really? Thanks!”

Stuffing the dolphin pendant into a pocket, he stood and hurried after Ninsunu and Satahsusar. They hadn’t even noticed his absence, or if they had, refrained from saying anything.

Low Street was narrower and even more winding than the main avenue they’d just walked down. It was barely wide enough for three people to walk next to each other, so the mages went single file. The buildings’ sloping, tiled roofs had eaves that stretched out so far they nearly blocked out the sky. That style of architecture was indeed unusual, as most Isinian buildings had flat roofs that made it easy to enjoy the evening breeze during summer.

Being in the back, Xerxes noticed how Satahsusar kept her robes clamped tightly against her body. He sneered. Granted, this neighborhood wasn’t exactly a gleaming example of cleanliness, but it wasn’t as though the place would infect her if she touched something.

Damn rich people, he thought. It would probably do Satahsusar good to come live in Harborview for a time. She’d been alive for over two centuries, but it wouldn’t surprise him at all to learn that she’d never had permanent lodging anywhere other than Garden Terrace.

At a certain point, Low Street widened out into something akin to a courtyard, possibly even a square, with four residence gates visible within it, two on either side. Compared to the cramped alleys, the place seemed spacious. All four residences were obviously mansions, with slightly finer plaster on the walls, fancier roof tiles, and the like.

Ninsunu stopped and looked at the four gates set into high walls.

“Which one is Ogden Manor?” she muttered.

The gates themselves were solid wood, making it impossible to see what lay beyond them. They were unmarked by either numbers or written text, ensuring that an outsider would have difficulty telling them apart. But Xerxes saw the differences. In Harborview and other similar neighborhoods, people preferred anonymity, and let the physical characteristics of their homes serve as their identifying marks. For instance, one of the gates had a lintel with ceramic tiles featuring a peach motif. Another gate had spiral carvings on the panels, while the one opposite had a bottom rail made of metal. There didn’t seem to be anything special about the fourth gate.

“Might as well just knock on all the doors,” Satahsusar said, making no attempt to keep the distaste out of her tone.

“It’s that one,” Xerxes said, pointing at the most nondescript of the four gates.

The two women looked at him askance.

“It’s not Ogden Manor,” he explained. “It’s ‘Ogdown Manor. You know, hogdown?”

“Hogdown?” Ninsunu asked, clearly puzzled.

Xerxes bit his lip briefly to stifle the feeling of annoyance that was growing with every minute spent among upper crust people like this. On the one hand, he thirsted for the prominence and respect they commanded. On the other hand, he hated their stuffiness. “Hogdown is slang for ‘normal’ or ‘ordinary,’” he explained. “Of these four doors, which looks the least unusual to you?” Before either woman could reply, he said, “That one. In Harborview, just about every courtyard like this has a ‘hogdown manor.’”

“So,” Satahsusar said lightly, “do we just let ourselves in? You do have Marshal Authority, after all.”

“The reaction to a knock will tell a lot,” Ninsunu replied. “And I doubt the seconds we’ll lose if they refuse to open will change much.” She stepped over and rapped four times on the wooden door.

A few seconds passed before a door viewer opened at around eye level. It was dark on the other side of the door, making it almost impossible to see who was looking at them from inside.

“Who’s there?” someone said from inside, their voice muffled.

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“I represent Mystic Aban Saddi and have Marshal Authority from the King himself. This is about the recent incidents in the city. I have some questions for Master Enki.”

The person behind the door didn’t respond for a good two or three seconds. Then they said, “Okay, I’ll tell him. Wait right here.”

The door viewer snapped shut.

“I vote we go in,” Satahsusar said.

In this instance, Xerxes didn’t disagree with her.

“We wait,” Ninsunu said.

As seconds passed, Xerxes’ hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. He looked up the street and then the other way, to find both directions completely empty. This entire area seemed completely deserted.

Satahsusar sighed. “They’re probably running out the back.”

Xerxes suppressed his distaste for the woman and opened his mouth to voice agreement with her.

Before he could, Ninsunu said, “I’ve arrested dozens of cultists through the years. Never once did any of them run away when I knocked on the door. Even they know that running makes you look guilty.”

Satahsusar shrugged. Xerxes flipped his sword around and rested the blade on his shoulder.

A few more seconds passed, then Ninsunu stepped closer to the door until she could reach out and touch it. “That said, I do agree we shouldn’t just stand around forever.”

Closing her eyes, she put all her fingers on the wooden surface of the door.

Xerxes didn’t sense anything unusual, but it was obvious she was sending her mage sight into the door.

“Not a very complex lock,” she said quietly.

“I’m really getting bored here,” Satahsusar said.

Give me a break, Xerxes thought.

“Xerk,” Ninsunu said, “I’m going to open the door. You go in first, sword out, but be ready for spellcasting. I’ll be right behind you.”

He edged forward and to the left.

A moment later, he heard a click and a thump from inside the door. Mages didn’t just have ‘mage sight,’ they also had ‘mage touch.’ The range on it was even shorter than mage sight, and though its combat applications were so limited as to make it useless, even Seers could use it to do things like open doors or levitate small objects.

The door swung open slowly and Ninsunu stepped back.

“Representatives of King and Parliament!” she called out loudly. “Stand down and prepare to be inspected!” Lowering her voice, she said, “Go ahead, Xerk.”

Holding his sword in the skyward guard position, with the tip pointing up and slightly behind him, he took a tentative step into the door.

Repeating Ninsunu’s call, he said, “Representatives of King and Parliament! Anybody there?”

There was no response. However, as Xerxes took another step, an acrid odor brushed across his face that caused his nose to wrinkle and his heart to leap into his throat.

Looking half over his shoulder at Ninsunu, he said, “That’s the smell of Abhorrent.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

The scuttling sounds coming from the corridor within answered for him.

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