side of the road and the other the south. He and Stephano plunged into the crowd. Traffic was moving on the street again, under the direction of a policeman.
Rodrigo stopped. “The police! We should report Piefer to the police!”
“And you’d be the one they’d arrest,” said Stephano grimly. “Dueling is against the law, which makes the death of Valazquez murder. The honorable Sir Richard Piefer would tell them you shot Valazquez, and we can’t prove that you didn’t.”
“My God!” Rodrigo cried, horrified. “I’m a wanted man!”
“I’ll talk to my mother,” said Stephano. “The countess will see to it that the right people are bribed and paid off and the murder is hushed up. She’s good at that sort of thing. We’ll add the cost in as a business expense related to Alcazar.”
“So you think this has something to do with Alcazar? But why do they want to kill me?” Rodrigo demanded.
Stephano’s mind had been grappling with this question; suddenly he had an answer.
“Because you are a crafter; a highly skilled crafter,” Stephano said. “And because someone knows you are investigating the disappearance of Alcazar, also a crafter. Someone knows this because they had a man watching Alcazar’s apartment…”
And then Stephano knew where he had seen Sir Richard Piefer.
“Piefer is Slouch Hat!” he said to Rodrigo. “That is why he had looked familiar to me! I remember thinking Slouch Hat looked like a jongleur, like a man who has been on the stage, an actor.”
“But then who is he and why was he trying to kill us?” Rodrigo asked, bewildered.
Stephano’s mind, once it got going, was now racing along. “Because Slouch Hat/Piefer was afraid you had discovered something related to Alcazar.”
“But I didn’t, except the possibility that Alcazar has ties to Westfirth…”
“Piefer couldn’t know that. He tried to kill you just on the possibility that you had learned something!”
“And poor Valazquez?” Rodrigo asked.
“He was just a cat’s-paw; a hotheaded young man who could be easily lured into fighting a duel. You were telling the truth, weren’t you?” Stephano said remorsefully. “You said you didn’t write those letters. I should have believed you.”
“I can understand why you wouldn’t,” said Rodrigo with a faint smile. “You are right. My life as a reprobate was bound to catch up with me.”
“As for the wretched Valazquez, he was supposed to kill you and, when he didn’t, Piefer killed him so that there would be no witnesses.”
“If Alcazar found a way to fully meld magic and metal, such a discovery would definitely be worth killing a few people,” said Rodrigo. He regarded his friend in concern. “You don’t look good. How are you doing?”
Stephano shivered. He was starting to grow feverish. “I’m all right,” he lied.
Rodrigo glanced behind. “We’ve been spotted. Piefer’s assassins are catching up. I believe that lane cuts through.”
The entrance of a small, narrow street was on the opposite side. They darted recklessly in front of a cab, forcing the driver to rein in his horse to avoid hitting them. He lashed at them angrily with his whip as they dashed past. They ran down the lane, not stopping to look, hoping that their sudden movement had caught the two assassins off guard.
At the end of the lane, Stephano had to stop. He could feel himself weakening. He leaned against a wall, shaking with chills.
“Not much farther,” said Rodrigo. “We’re on Canal Street. I can see the Cloud Hopper from here.”
“Just… give me a moment to rest,” Stephano said.
Rodrigo looked back down the lane.
“We don’t have a moment, my friend.”
Stephano sucked in his breath. “All right. Let’s go.”
He tried to take a step, staggered, and nearly fell. Rodrigo put his arm around his friend and half-dragged, half-carried Stephano toward the Cloud Hopper.
As the name implied, Canal Street bordered the largest, longest, and oldest of the canals. Originally natural formations-deep ravines that cut inland-the canals had been magically extended by crafters, who had used their magic to blast through the rock. Although the canals resembled waterbearing canals, these canals were filled with the Breath, not water, and were used by smaller craft to enter the city. Larger craft, such as the naval ships, were not permitted into the city at all, and had to dock at the wharf, which was some distance away.
Floating wherries and barges sailed up and down the canals, delivering passengers and goods to various parts of the city. Trundler houseboats, such as the Cloud Hopper, docked in the stalls, paying a fee for the privilege. The Royal Barge was there, ready for use. The grand bishop and many other nobles had their own private yachts, as these luxurious vessels were known. The yachts and the Royal Barge cruised the canals on fine nights.
Canal Street was lined with warehouses, taverns, and market stalls that sold goods fresh off the barges. Stevedores loaded and unloaded cargo. Vendors in the stalls shouted out their wares. Buyers went from stall to stall, examining the vegetables, the slabs of beef, and the fish fresh-caught in the lakes in the mountains.
Stephano and Rodrigo mingled with the buyers, going from stall to stall, making their way down the street to where the Cloud Hopper was docked.
“My poor friend can’t hold his ale,” Rodrigo remarked to those who stared as they stumbled past.
Canal Street was not as crowded as the other city streets, and Piefer’s assassins were closing in. Stephano kept going by sheer will alone; moving in a kind of pain-tinged daze.
He was concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, when Rodrigo steered him to a halt. They had left the market area of Canal Street behind without Stephano even knowing it and were in a quieter area, surrounded by large warehouses.
“We’re here,” Rodrigo said, holding onto Stephano. “We made it. Well, almost.”
Stephano could see the Cloud Hopper tethered to the dock. The houseboat measured close to sixty feet in length, with a raised sterncastle and forecastle and a full lower deck. She had an upper and lower mast, along with an upper boom. Short wings extended out from the hull from just behind the curve of the bow and ending in front of the sterncastle. Airscrews, used for maneuvering, were mounted into the rear edge of each wing.
A refined and concentrated form of the Breath was stored in the balloons that were tethered to the mainmast and boom. The Breath in the balloons could be magically charged to create a much greater amount of lift than was present in the Breath naturally. The Breath was also trapped inside the lift tanks built into the hull at the base of the Cloud Hopper’s stubby wings. The lift tanks were wooden barrels with a thin iron lining set with protective magical constructs that allowed the tank to be pressurized, thus providing even greater lift capability. Cables connected both the balloons and the tanks to the helm-a brass panel inscribed with magical constructs. The helmsman could control the amount of lift in the balloons and the tanks, as well as the magical energy that powered the airscrews from this panel. Spare tanks built into the hull contained additional quantities of the gas, should the balloons tear or the tanks rupture.
To reach the boat, Stephano and Rodrigo would have to cross the boardwalk-a promenade made of wooden planks that ran the length of Canal Street. The boardwalk was a popular place for people to take a stroll on a fine Breadun afternoon. A fence running along the boardwalk protected pedestrians from tumbling (or jumping) into the canal. Piers led from the boardwalk to the stalls where the barges and houseboats were moored.
Today being a weekday, the promenade was empty. The Cloud Hopper was the only houseboat currently docked in this part of the canal. The entire broad expanse of boardwalk lay between Stephano and Rodrigo and the houseboat. They would be easy targets for Piefer’s assassins, who had drawn their pistols and were coming toward them.
Dag paced anxiously back and forth on the prow of the Cloud Hopper. Miri stood beside him, both of them worried. They had not yet caught sight of Rodrigo and Stephano, who were keeping to the shadows. And waiting on the promenade for news was Benoit.
“Dag!” Rodrigo risked a shout and waved. “We need help!” He pointed at the two assassins.
Dag heard, looked, and understood. He had obviously been expecting trouble, because he had his blunderbuss ready, propped against the ship’s rail. He picked it up and swiftly loaded it with shot and powder.
“There’s going to be gunfire,” he told Miri, his words booming through the quiet. “Tell Gythe to stay below
