By Fire and Flood, page 11
“Come on now, we’re nearly there. Once we get to town, you can rest,” a mother soothed her child, who pulled obstinately at her hand.
“I’d hardly call Domogién a town, Iryne.” A man who Nissa assumed was her husband frowned down at her. The woman rolled her eyes good-naturedly, but Nissa missed what was said as the woman swung her child up into the man’s arms and they continued moving.
“I guess that answers that question,” Nissa muttered to herself. She turned to follow them and took another deep breath. You’re almost there, she soothed herself, and she allowed herself to melt into the crowd of her fellow travelers.
Domogién was like nowhere Nissa had ever been before. While her home in Danuil had a decently-sized population, the chill that filled the air around the city deterred most residents from spending unnecessary time wandering the streets. Domogién, it seemed, had the opposite problem. Beyond the iron-wright gates, artfully crafted in a design that mimicked flickering flames, the heat was blistering, but no one seemed in a hurry to escape indoors.
A melody floated on the air to meet her ears, and Nissa found herself stepping in time and resisting the urge to skip with the lively tune it carried. Musicians! There are musicians performing out here. At home, music was a more somber affair, exclusive to theaters and scheduled performances. To see it displayed here so casually felt almost sacrilegious. She loved every moment of it.
Like the Singed Keep, most of the buildings seemed crafted of stone, but the colors varied widely from sun kissed auburn to soft grays, rather than the gradient gray and black of the keep. Lovely. The cacophony of colors somehow made sense in Nissa’s mind, and she found herself enamored with her first look and itching to explore. First things first, though, she reminded herself. Lodgings were at the top of her to-do list; if she was going to stay in Domogién, she didn’t want to do it as a beggar, exposed to the elements and the whims of anyone who might stumble across her with ill intent. Nissa still had the small cache of coins that her mother had tucked within her pack, and she had to hope that it would be enough to help her find a place here, however brief that stay might be. Better still to have a home base in case it’s longer than expected. Exploration could wait. First, she needed to orient herself and take care of the necessities.
Nissa tore her eyes from the lively streets that beckoned her with music and turned instead to the quieter side-streets. A few held skulking figures in their midst, and she found herself turning away from the trouble before it could begin. Another, emptier path caught her attention, and she found herself moving away from the city’s gate as though beckoned.
The small street was quiet, but the sound of water echoing beyond what Nissa could see drew her in as the sounds of the more crowded city faded behind her. As it grew louder, she realized that the sound stemmed from a fountain. The artful carvings were like nothing she had seen before, with elegant twists etched into polished stone that seemed to glow with its own inner light. The water that trickled through the deeply carved facets of stone added to the effect, rippling the water that formed a shining black pool against the stone basin at the bottom. Nissa’s breath caught in her chest as she stopped and stared, wondering how the few passersby were not likewise overcome. She swallowed thickly as she turned away, wondering how a hunk of twisted stone could make her feel so overcome.
As she tore her eyes from the fountain, Nissa caught sight of a small, unassuming building behind the fountain, built of soft-gray stone. It was a quiet building, and its weathered sign named it as an inn in shining bronze text. She was drawn to the building like a moth to a flame. Perhaps she should have sought out something busier, where she could fade into a crowd of other nameless travelers, but something about the building called to her, and before she knew it, she had entered.
She looked up as she stepped over the scarred threshold to where beams spiderwebbed across a ceiling that was higher than she would have expected from her vantage point outside. Thick, wavy glass glowed translucent against the unforgiving light of the city beyond, and a few glittering specks of dust floated through the air as she blinked to allow her eyes to adjust to the changed light. The room Nissa had entered was spacious, with a bar at one end beneath a lofted space that she assumed led to the rented rooms. The space around the bar itself was deserted, and if it was not for the presence of the few stools being carelessly shoved back from the bar, she would have thought that it was always so. A few tables scattered themselves on the half of the room that bore the bar, but there was no sort of direction in sight. Despite the flecks of sparkling dust in the air, the room seemed clean, and Nissa decided that she was content to wait for service. The thick, dark planks of wood that made up the floor creaked softly as she crossed over to the bar, where she settled herself on one of the stools in the center and decided to wait. Nissa was only seconds into her silent vigil when she got the sense that she was being watched, and she spun on the stool as casually as she could, leaning on one elbow as she angled her body so that she could see the room.
“Can I help you?” a gravelly voice asked near the ear that was nearest to the wall. Nissa yelped in surprise as she lunged off the stool, spinning to face the man who had spoken. She squinted at the man; he was roughly her height, silver-haired with a receding hairline and a long mustache to match—which was presently twitching with the same amusement that deepened the lines around his eyes. She swallowed heavily as she rubbed a spot on her forearm that throbbed; she must have pushed off the edge of the bar. Nissa cleared her throat uncomfortably.
“I was hoping to rent a room,” she said once her thundering heartbeats had returned to their normal pace. He sized her up briefly, and his mustache stilled.
“We’re a bit far from the center of town here,” he said after a measured silence. “Are you sure you won’t want to find something closer to the action?” He tilted his head to one side as though evaluating her, and she fought the urge to swallow again.
“The quiet suits me just fine,” Nissa said. “Light sleeper,” she added with a quick flash of teeth. She held her breath carefully for another moment as he considered her.
“It’s just as well. We don’t get as much trouble out our way,” he said finally, and Nissa felt herself relax.
“I’m definitely not looking for trouble,” she said lightly.
“How long will you be wanting to stay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She felt her cheeks heat slightly at the question; she didn’t have an answer to that. Tryamon had told her to lay low for a while, but Nissa had no idea how long it would take for everything to blow over with Ward. A moment passed while she considered, doing nothing to alleviate the nervous heat that spread through the rest of my body. Say something. Anything. She released some of her tension with what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug.
“Not sure. Could I go week to week?” she asked. The man grunted, and Nissa thrust her hand into her bag, fishing out her coin purse and counting out pewter and bronze coins carefully.
“You’ll need at least one gold for a week’s stay,” he interjected, and she froze, teeth catching on the inside of her cheek as she stared into the purse that had been rather light to begin with. Nissa had been hoping to save more for the next leg of her journey.
“Oh,” she managed.
“It is the capital city,” he said kindly. Nissa chewed thoughtfully on her lip as she glanced up at him. His brown eyes had softened slightly.
“Just the week for now, then.” She dropped the coin—one of her only gold coins— reluctantly into his hand and tried not to look too longingly after it as he turned it over and over between his fingers.
“Tell you what,” his eyes met hers, “you help me keep the bar clean after hours, and we’ll call it three bronze for the week.” Nissa blinked at him for a moment, taken aback.
“Why?” The word shot out of her before she could stop it.
“I may not look busy, girl, but it’s just me here at the moment. The extra help would be welcome,” he said grudgingly.
“Oh,” she said again. The man extended the gold coin back to Nissa, and she took it, replacing it quickly in her pouch, dropping the bronze coins in his outstretched palm to replace it.
“From one quiet-natured person to another,” he said with a twitch of his mouth. “I’m Aegon Dornamir, the owner.” She nodded at him.
“Ni—” Nissa froze for a half-second. “Nice to meet you,” she amended. One of his thick eyebrows twitched upward at her stammer, but he didn’t comment on it. To her relief, he also didn’t push for her to share her name.
“Up the stairs and to the left. Second door. The key will be in the lock.” He nodded at her as though to affirm the instructions before turning his back and sauntering back through a subtly placed door beside the bar. How did I not notice that before? Nissa stared at it for a few moments before shaking her head and glancing across the room at the sturdy-looking staircase. Might as well get settled in.
19
Each day that Nissa spent in the city set her more at ease. It was as simple as Tryamon had said it would be to fade into blissful anonymity of Domogién. Each street was a melting pot of personalities and professions. Fire Realm citizens were, of course, the most auspicious presence, but Nissa had stumbled across a visitor from the Air Realm quite by accident as well, watching from afar as the man had summoned a breeze on a particularly muggy day. This had been met with applause from those near enough to him to notice, and Nissa had found herself smiling in response.
She hadn’t spent much time on the streets of Danuil, despite it being so close to her family home. Her father was fiercely protective of all of his children—rather, fiercely controlling, as she was coming to see it now—so Nissa had been allowed to explore the city only on special occasions, in pre-approved locations, and always with an escort intimidating enough to keep many from getting too close. She wasn’t sure if Domogién was comparatively unique or if it was her freedom in being able to explore on her own terms that made it appeal to her so much. Either way, Nissa enjoyed the process of becoming acquainted with the life-teeming paths that she took the liberty of investigating at her own pace. She still shied away from exchanging much more than passing remarks to the vendors in the market who recognized her as a frequent visitor, but she thrived on the sense of adventure that came with each new discovery she made.
The nights spent wiping the bar and sweeping the inn floor were made more worth it when she discovered the city library. Nissa stumbled across it accidentally, when she took a wrong turn and found herself gazing up at an impressive building the color of sand. Its rising columns and a regal staircase of the same material took her breath away. She had been drawn to the front door like a moth to a flame, and upon stepping inside, she had discovered a universe of worlds inside its walls. Since Nissa was not a citizen of the Fire Realm, she wasn't allowed to leave with any of the materials, but she had spent several days inside the cavernous hall, thumbing through book after book to pass the time, leaving only for meals or when her eyes started to blur. One tome in particular, a tale of faeries and assassins, had kept her there for the entirety of a day when she found it impossible to put down. It had been a long time since an escape into fiction had made her forget a meal. Reading, while she hadn’t spent much time on the hobby back home, was proving to be a welcome escape from the peak of the hotter days and a way to break up her patterns of travel. Even as she became more comfortable on the city streets, Nissa knew that it would not serve her to have her movements become too predictable. Still, she stayed out as often as she could manage to, mostly to prevent prying questions from the innkeeper as her first two weeks at his establishment drew to a close. Thankfully, he did not seem to be the talkative type—or maybe he just knew somehow that Nissa couldn’t be. So far, they’d built a system that worked between the two of them. So far, that meant that she was safe to stay in place, at least for the time being.
Despite Nissa’s intrigue with the lively streets at the center of Domogién, she was comfortable in her lodgings off the beaten track. The quaint room was equipped simply with a wood-framed bed, iron tub, and small sink. Through some method that she assumed to be a trick of Fire Realm power, the water in the tub was heated where it came through the pipes, and she had enjoyed the luxury of a warm soak on several occasions. Despite the iron of the tub, Nissa never saw any evidence of rust. Beyond the luxurious plumbing and the curious properties of the tub, it was a simple room, but a part of Nissa craved stability that it brought to the close of each day. There was some sense of foreboding deep in her gut that told her to enjoy it while it lasted.
It was the pursuit of that enjoyment that empowered her to finally venture down to the Artist’s Quarter on one especially clear night. The stars twinkled down at Nissa from their own frolicking merriment as the sound of the rambunctious celebration in the quarter grew louder. She stepped in time as the dancing notes of a fiddle rose above the din. Nissa skipped to the tune, toes scuffing slightly as the strings held a singing note. Laughter punctuated the melody, and her lips parted in a smile as she drew closer and saw figures of all ages leaping through the air in dance.
“First time in the Quarter?” A voice reached her ears from the right, and Nissa jumped to see a tall, lean silhouette lift an arm in toast. His brassy-toned goblet glinted in the light as he took a swig of his drink. She fought the heat that rose to her cheeks at being caught in a moment of unawareness as she nodded.
“It is.”
“Welcome to paradise. There’s nowhere like it.” His dark eyes surveyed Nissa over the rim of his glass.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly, stepping away from the man. A hand caught her forearm, and she stiffened.
“Slow down! What’s your name? What brings you to our fair city?” he asked, face smooth and unreadable as he surveyed her.
“Freedom,” Nissa said vaguely, wrenching her arm away. He raised his glass again, and this time, he was close enough for Nissa to scent the faint notes of fruit that rose from his wine.
“To freedom, then,” he smirked. Nissa whirled around, casting a wary glance behind her as she twisted between dancing pairs. She felt the man’s eyes on her back until she was all the way across the space. As the musical number came to a close, Nissa thought that perhaps she had been too careless in coming to this section of the city at night. She cast her eyes around her, but thankfully, the man had not followed her further, and the weight of Nissa’s dread lightened as the fiddler struck up another lively tune. She found a vantage point on a wall and let her toes wiggle in time within her shoes, smiling as she nodded along.
“Do you dance much?” a woman to her left smiled. Splatters of paint coated her tunic and flecked her face, although her hands remained clean. Nissa smiled in reply and shook her head politely.
“Not in some time,” she said.
“Go one if you want to. Nobody’ll mind,” the woman said with a lilt. Nissa shook her head softly.
“Not this time.” Her smile turned apologetic, and the woman hummed a response, seeming to understand. Nissa’s eyes glanced over the dancers again, and as the melody climbed to sing a high note, she closed her eyes and let it wash over her. Beautiful. It was a magic all of its own, and she wondered again if other cities shared it. When Nissa reopened her eyes, she gazed over the others like her, who were soaking in the scene from the shadows of the wall. It lightened her heart to see that what she felt was a shared experience, if the naked joy on the faces of those observing the dancers was any indication.
A jerking movement, at odds with the fluidity of the dance, caught her attention from one far corner of the crowd, and Nissa’s eyes strained through the shadows to follow it. A broad-shouldered figure was pushing his way through the crowd, which parted just enough for him to pass before closing around. She fought a scowl as she squinted at the offender. Who wouldn’t be enjoying this? She rolled her eyes at her own reaction. Not worth wasting time to judge. She turned back to face the music as a cellist stepped forward, hefting his instrument to join the fiddler. Nissa settled back against the wall with a smile and enjoyed the show.
20
When she had reached the end of her third week in Domogién, Nissa finally felt comfortable enough not to check around every corner as she wandered the streets. She was still on her guard of course, and she knew that she would have to be until enough time had passed that she could move on, but Nissa was no longer jumping into a defensive position at every shifting shadow or tensing at each body that came too close to hers on the bustling city streets. And it was, she had to admit, a bustling city.
The Fire Realm’s capital felt like a secret gem, with streets bright and busy and lined with vendors. Against her better judgment, Nissa had made a habit of meandering down one street in particular, where a sequence of market stalls boasted of wares and cuisine from across the realms. Of course, few of the booths were manned by those from the realms whose wares they handled so enthusiastically, but the site of such metropolitan enthusiasm had her feeling a bit nostalgic for home and wistful for exploration all at once. And none of it is out of reach now that you’re out from under your father’s thumb. The crowd faded into a dull hum in her ears as she studied the fresh wares. They seemed to change every couple of days, although whether the changes were to add variety or because the booths were so popular, Nissa hadn’t yet figured it out. She lingered in front of one stall, and she was studying a woven basket that claimed to be from an Earth Realm artisan when a body plowed into hers. She exhaled sharply as an elbow slammed the wind from her lungs in a whirl of deep blue, and she fought for breath. Nissa glanced up from her nearly doubled-over position at a cry from the one who had run into her.
