They passed open bays full of beds, some occupied and some not, and
corridors that led off to private rooms. The hallway opened into a central
courtyard with a fountain where a few patients in nightclothes sat at tables
and played dice and tile games. They looked up curiously as the trio strode
through, and one accidentally dumped his tiles on the flagstones when he
spotted Lornysh. Jev didn’t pause to explain.
They ran into the back half of the building, down another hallway, and to
a door that led to the street behind the hospital. Jev hoped nothing but a few
trash bins waited out there.
Sunlight blasted them as he shoved open the door and strode out. His
stomach sank.
Four men in watchmen’s gray and white uniforms waited, sun glinting off
the barrels of the rifles pointed at the doorway.
Though his instincts screamed for Jev to spring to the side and get out of
their sights, he reminded himself that this was his city, not some elven
encampment a thousand miles to the north.
“Gentlemen,” he said, stepping forward and spreading his arms so they
could see he didn’t hold a weapon—and so they would focus on him rather
than Cutter and Lornysh behind him. “I am Jevlain Dharrow, zyndar and
captain in the kingdom army, leader of Gryphon Company, in charge of
intelligence-gathering during the war. These are friends who worked with our
people in the war.” He tilted his head to indicate Lornysh and Cutter as he
introduced them. He was careful to keep his arms spread wide to partially
block them from the rifles.
“Dharrow?” the sergeant in the lead asked, his rifle tip lowering.
“Dharrow,” Jev said firmly, hoping that little had changed in the last ten
years and that his family was still held in high regard for its history of serving
the king during peace and war times.
The sergeant looked at the cloak clasp. Jev didn’t know whether to be
amused or not that everyone was skeptical when it came to identifying him.
He’d left home young enough that he hadn’t truly expected anyone to
remember his face, but he hadn’t expected doubt. He was unkempt and dirty
and in the same uniform as the rest of the soldiers arriving, but people hadn’t
had much trouble picking him out as zyndar when he’d been younger. Had the
city changed that much? Or had he?
“You’re related to Heber Dharrow?” the sergeant asked.
“My father.”
The rest of the rifles shifted so they weren’t pointed at Jev’s chest. Shouts
came from the direction of the hospital courtyard, and Jev feared that trouble
was about to catch up to them from behind.
“It’s important that I report in to him now that I’m home from the war,”
Jev added. Something he would do as soon as he figured out this artifact situation. “May we pass? I will personally vouch for the character of my
companions.”
“It’s not their character that’ll have the citizens worried, Zyndar,” the
sergeant said. “This isn’t a good time to be a, uhm, foreigner in Korvann.”
“A non-human, you mean?”
“A non-human foreigner. We have a wagon, Zyndar. Will you come with
us? We’ll escort you to your father’s land.”
Jev didn’t want an escort. And he hadn’t planned on going home right
now.
The shouts in the building behind him escalated.
Jev forced a regal smile and nodded. “That would be appreciated,” he
made himself say.
“Good. This way, Zyndar. And, uh, your friends.” The sergeant headed
toward a steam wagon parked at the end of the street, the metal and wood
sides painted in the colors of the watch. Soft puffs of black smoke wafted
from its stack.
Not feeling that he had a choice, Jev trailed the man. The other watchmen
waited for Lornysh and Cutter to pass, then strode along on their heels, their
weapons still in hand.
Jev told himself this was a good development. Since the wagon was
covered, he, Lornysh, and Cutter could make it out of the city without being
waylaid again, and he had planned to visit his father and his home.
Eventually. Unfortunately, with the watch escorting them, Jev wouldn’t have
a chance to sneak Lornysh out to one of the groves without mentioning him to
his father.
Not his largest problem right now, he reminded himself.
“Why couldn’t you just do that at the dock?” Cutter asked as they climbed
into the covered wagon and sat on one of the wood benches. “Get us a free
ride and an escort?”
“I thought you’d want to get some exercise after being cooped up on the
ship for the crossing,” Jev said.
“Exercise? Is that what you call battling women in robes, being chased by
crowds, and having vegetables lobbed at our heads?”
“Fruit,” Lornysh said.
“What?”
“Eggplants have seeds and are thus considered fruits.”
“So are elves,” Cutter said, “but we don’t call them that to their faces.”
“Wise,” Lornysh said.
Two watchmen climbed in to ride in the back with them, and Jev’s
comrades fell silent. He watched the corner of the hospital building as the
wagon rumbled into motion with a hiss of releasing steam. He thought of how
the nurse had recognized Zenia, and he was positive he hadn’t seen the last of her