bowl isn’t the future, but the shadows of possibility. We see likelihoods and maybes. Axat suggests what might occur if we follow a particular path. But there’s never a guarantee.” He placed the bowl back into the pouch he always carried. He gave Karl a quick smile. “We can all change our future, if we’re strong and persistent enough.”
Karl had sniffed at that. Talis had gone over to Nico then, and the two had tussled, laughing, while Serafina watched with a smile, and the love between the three of them had been palpable. He heard Varina pad barefoot into the room, her eyes dark with sleep. She was watching, too, and he could not tell what he saw in her face. She must have felt his stare, for she turned to him, smiled wanly, then turned her head away again. She folded her arms over her chest, hugging herself and not him.
Each day, Karl would go out to Oldtown Market, usually with Varina, hoping to find those elusive customers of Uly’s and asking questions. After several fruitless days, it became more routine; they would occasionally take Nico with them, with the promise to Serafina that if they found Uly, they would not confront him.
It was nearly two weeks later when it happened.
“Oh, yes, the woman I told you about was just here,” the farmer said as he placed a box of mushrooms in their place. “She’s wearing a yellow tashta embroidered with a dragon down the front. She’s probably still around; said she was looking for fish.” He pointed to his left. “You might check at Ari’s, just down there. He just brought in some trout from the Vaghian.”
Karl heard Varina draw in her breath, saw her tighten her grasp on Nico. Karl nodded, tossed the man a folia, and pushed his way back into the slow crowds strolling the market’s dirt lanes-almost all of them women or older men. They could smell the fishmonger’s stall before they saw it, and Karl caught a glimpse of a yellow tashta there. “Karl?” Varina said.
“I’m just going to ask her. If she knows where Uly is, then we’ll get Nico home first.” He patted Nico’s head. “Can’t have your matarh upset with us, after all,” he told the boy.
He left the two there, approaching the stall. The woman turned as Ari displayed a rainbow-scaled fish for her, and Karl saw the head of a dragon, purple smoke coiling from its mouth. He pushed forward until he was next to her. “Excuse me, Vajica,” he said, “but if you can answer a question for me, I’ll buy that fish for you.” Before she could answer, he gave her the tale they’d rehearsed, pointing back to Varina and Nico occasionally: how he was newly married, how his wife had a child by her previous husband and now they both wanted a child of their own but because they were both older now, they hadn’t been able to conceive; how he’d heard that there was a foreign man named Uly who once had a stall here in the market who had been selling potions for just that problem, and that one of the sellers here had mentioned she might know where this Uly was. The woman looked from Karl to Varina and Nico.
She did know. “In fact, I just left him. In the Red Swan on Bell Lane, not five minutes from here. He’d just ordered a pint, so I expect he’s still there.”
Karl thanked her, paid the fishmonger for the trout without haggling, and returned to Varina and Nico. He crouched down in front of Nico. “Varina’s going to take you home now, Nico,” he said. He didn’t dare look up at Varina-he could imagine the thoughts her face reflected. “I’m going to stay here a little bit longer.”
Nico nodded, and Karl hugged the boy. “You two go on now,” he said, rising.
“Karl, you promised…” Varina said.
“I’m not going to do anything,” he told her, wondering if it was the truth. He told her what the woman had said. “I know where he is right now. All I’m going to do is follow him. I’ll find out where he lives. Then we can figure out how to approach him.”
He could see the disbelief in the way she bit her lower lip, in the hollowness of her eyes, in the slow shake of her head. She clutched at Nico. “You promise?”
“I promise,” Karl said.
She stared at him, her head tilted to one side. “Come on, Nico,” she said finally. “Let’s go.” Karl bent down and hugged Nico again, then-rising-Varina. That was like hugging one of the columns on the Archigos’ Temple. He watched the two of them until they disappeared into the crowds of the market.
Bell Lane was a dirt-strewn alley a few blocks off the Avi a’Parete, only a few strides across and hemmed in closely with small shops of indeterminate purpose, and above them dingy, dark apartments. Its central gutter was filthy and wet with waste; Karl found himself walking carefully to avoid the worst of the messes. The Red Swan was set on a corner where the lane intersected a larger street leading up to the Avi, curls of old paint peeling from the signboard. Karl entered, the gloom inside making him pause to let his eyes adjust. The only light inside came through the cracks of the shutters and the guttering candles on a single chandelier and on each table. It was easy enough to find Uly once Karl could see in the dim light: a copper-skinned man with scars and tattoos over his face and arms.
Karl went to the bar and ordered a pint from the sour-looking barman, his back to Uly. The interior brightened suddenly as another person-a woman-entered the bar, and Karl shielded his eyes against the light.
He’d intended to do as he’d said to Varina: find Uly and follow the man until he found where he lived. But he watched the man sipping his pint, and images of Ana’s sprawled, ruined body rose in his mind so that he could barely think at all, and a slow rage built in his belly, rising to his chest where it wrapped blood-engorged arms around his lungs and heart.
He swallowed half his beer at one draught. He picked up the beer and went to the Westlander’s table.
“You’re Uly?” he asked. He sat across from the man, who watched him carefully, as if ready to fight. Muscles corded and slid in his muscular arms, and one hand dropped below the table.
“And if I am?” he asked. His voice held the same accent as Talis’, the same as Mahri’s, though deeper and more pronounced, so that Karl had to listen carefully to make out the words.
“I’m told you make potions. For fertility.”
The man’s chin lifted slightly and he seemed to relax. His right hand came back to the scarred, beer-ringed tabletop. “Ah, that. I do that, yes. You’re in need of such?”
Karl shrugged. “Not that. But perhaps… something else. I have a friend; Talis is his name. He tells me you can provide me with something not to create life, but end it. Quickly.”
He watched the man’s face as he spoke. At the mention of Talis, one eyebrow had lifted slightly. A corner of Uly’s mouth rose, as if he were amused. He rubbed at his scarred, black-lined skull. His hands were large, the skin rough, and a long scar ran across the back: trademan’s hands. Or a soldier’s. “Such a thing would be illegal, Vajiki. Even if it could be done.”
“I’m prepared to pay well for it. Very well.”
A slow nod. Uly picked up his mug and drained it in one swallow, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s a fine day,” the man said. “Let’s take a stroll, and we can talk.”
He rose-the rest of his squat body was as muscular as his arms-and Karl rose with him. As they came to the door of the tavern, a woman hurrying to the door bumped into Karl, nearly knocking him into Uly. “Beg pardon, Vajiki,” the woman said. Her face was streaked with dirt, dried snot rimmed her nose, and her breath was foul. She grabbed at Karl’s hand and placed something hard in it. “For luck,” she said. “You must keep it, and it will bring you good fortune, Vajiki. You make sure now. Keep it.” She closed his fingers around it, and let him go, hurrying out the door. Karl looked at what the woman had put in his hand: a small, pale-colored pebble. Uly snorted laughter.
“The woman must have cobwebs for brains,” he said. “Come on, Vajiki. Let’s go.”
Karl put the pebble in the pocket of his bashta and followed Uly out into Bell Lane, then across the larger cross street and down another curving alley. They were walking north, toward Temple Park. “An’ what’s your name, Vajiki, since you know mine?” Uly asked as they walked.
“Andus,” Karl told him. “That’s all you need to know.”
“Ah, cautious, are we, Vajiki Andus? That’s good. That’s good. And who is it you’re wanting dead?”
“That’s my business, not yours.”
“I hardly think so,” Uly said, “since the Garde Kralji would come after me as well as you, and I’ve no interest in lodgings at the Bastida. I require a name from you, or we have no business at all.”
“It’s the Archigos,” Karl told the man. “I understand you already have some experience with that.”
He watched the man carefully, a spell ready to be released with a word and gesture. The man hesitated just slightly, a bare break in his step, but otherwise there was no response at all. He continued to walk on, and Karl had to hurry to catch up with him. The man’s expression hadn’t changed, nor had his demeanor. Karl waited for him to say something, his hand dropped to his side. They passed a side alleyway. ..
