Chapter Six

‘Many traditions lose small bits overtime. What started as guardians of the city, dwindled down to being the city’s hired swords. The Wardens kept the peace, but they did so at a price.’ 

What was it about someone that made them normal? Was it their attire? Or the way they talked with others and fit into a group? Normal may have been the best way to describe someone who blended in with the crowd.  

It was not, however, in any way an appropriate term for the girl whom Caid had just met. This possibly twelve-year-old girl was anything but normal. In a crowd, she would have stuck out like a beacon of fire on a dark, stormy night.  

The attire the girl wore conflicted with what most Parian’s wore, muted colors, allowing them to blend in with each other. She, however, wore mismatched leather attire. Her shirt a burned orange with black buckles, clearly made by someone who knew very little about tailoring. Her green pants cut off at the knees, frayed, and clashed with her orange top. Goggles sat atop her messy hair thrown up in a high ponytail. Caid couldn’t make out the color of the ribbon holding back her hair giving him no indication of her station.  

The girl silently observed Caid as he surveyed the room, lit only by the oil lanterns behind him. The flames threw off shadows around the room making everything look almost alive.  

“How well is this place secured?”  

He moved back toward the door, tracing his fingers across the area where grooves should have been, but it was airtight. There wasn’t even the outline of a door handle.  

“I made it myself,” the girl said excitedly. “See if you can open it.”  

 “Not now. Kind of don’t want to meet the men on the other side.”  

The girl looked at him as if trying to get a better sense of him, and then shrugged.  

“Doubt you could have anyhow. It is a special mechanism that I made myself.” She paused for a moment, moving toward the light of the flames. “I am Alis and this is my workshop. I like to make things. Not as great as being a warden, but I get by.”  

Caid stopped trying to figure out the door, turning to watch Alis. She stood at a high table focused on some contraption though there seemed to be no real use for it. Caid looked around, inspecting the other aspects of the room.  

Alis had ushered him into a wall, coming out the other side into some workshop. She claimed the workshop was hers, but it made no sense someone so young could have made some of the contraptions he saw on the shelves. Caid didn’t know what they were or what use they had, but many of them had hundreds of small pieces intricately put together. She also claimed to have made the door.  

“Who else lives here?”  

Alis stopped playing with whatever it was she had in her hands. She looked around the room, as if it were the first time she’d ever seen it.  

“Well, this isn’t much of a room. I don’t think anyone lives here. There are no beds or food here.”  

She had a point. Surrounding him were just piles of metal, wood, and small unknown machines.  

“Then where are you from?”  

Alis shrugged. “I have many rooms. Do you need to borrow one for the night?” Her mood seemed to brighten. “I have the perfect room for you.” 

Caid looked around, hoping to see a tunnel leading off toward another area.  

“Where is the room?”  

Alis was positively giddy now that he seemed to be taking up her offer. 

“I have always wanted to meet a warden. Now one wants to spend the night.” She clapped with glee.  

“How do you get there?”  

After everything he had been through, Caid was far less exuberant.  

“We have to go back out into the alley, but don’t worry, your friends left,” she said moving to the door.  

Caid jumped, putting his hand on the wall where he thought the door might be.  

“How are you sure they are gone?”  

Alis pointed toward the wall, and Caid glanced along the surface of the brick. He shrugged, finding no indication of a peephole.  

Alis let her hand drop. She moved forward a few steps, brushing Caid to the side.  

“See this panel?” she asked as if talking to a small child.  

“Sure,” Caid replied, not entirely certain what he looked for.  

“Well, this panel is special. It has a small sensor hooked up to either side of the wall. If the sensor outside picks up any movement, it triggers the sensor¾in here. When the sensor is triggered, it glows yellow¾it’s how I knew you were out there. Right now, it’s not lit, which means, there is no one on the other side.”  

Alis moved her hand up toward the wall as if she were ready to open the door, but Caid still felt uneasy.  

“What if they just aren’t moving?”  

“Not likely that anyone stops moving for five minutes when they are in search of someone who seemingly vanished.” 

Alis made another good point. It was very unlikely Maddog would stand still outside the wall; he would search for Caid. Caid may not have processed the full scope of things, but he knew that he should have died today. 

Opening the door, with Alis’s help, Caid carefully peered out and confirmed no one was there.  

Alis stepped outside and walked about a hundred yards down the alley, stopping again and pressing on the solid brick wall. Without a sound, the wall pushed inward, and she stepped through, indicating for Caid to follow.  

“How did you find these places?”  

Caid knew about secret pathways in each district across the city. The Wardens used them as quick getaways. Most of them were from rooftop to rooftop or through back alleyways, but none included secret rooms.  

Alis flicked a flint, and pulling a lantern from the wall, she lit it. The area suddenly came to life. It was a very narrow, long tunnel rather than a room like the other. 

 “I made them,” Alis responded. She skipped down the tunnel, not waiting for Caid to marvel at her handiwork.  

Caid had no choice but to follow or get left behind in the dark.  

He couldn’t be sure exactly where they were going, but that would mean Maddog wouldn’t know either.  

“How long will you be staying?”  

“Wasn’t exactly a planned vacation. How close can you get me to the wharf in Helios?”  

Alis stopped for a moment, looking to her left. Then, saying nothing, she reached out grabbing Caid’s arm and pulled away from the wall. The oil lamp supplied ample light, but it was not as strong as coal burning or electric lights. Being in Parian, he wasn’t surprised the girl was against using them.  

“Do you want to swim at the reef? Look for a boat out of the city at the docks? Or drink your sorrows away at the taverns?” she asked, pressing on a spot on the wall. Another door popped open. 

“I just want to check something out.”  

Caid needed to check out the Warden’s compound to see what information he could gain from it. What had they told the others? Caid was sure that most of the Wardens were not interested in killing their own. Some others he could not be sure of. Once Rawn took over leadership, the Wardens changed. He had tried to block out the feeling, but now it couldn’t be denied.  

Maybe others saw it and that was why they stood behind him during Rawn’s speech.  

Caid followed Alis through the doorway, and she shut it behind them.  

“I can get you where you need to be, but you have to open up a little more than that.”  

Caid was sure he could find his way back to this hideout using his own secret passages throughout the city, but the Wardens knew them too.  

However, even if Alis lied, they didn’t know about these tunnels.  

“Get me as close to the taverns as you can, and I will work from there.”  

Alis shrugged, making the shadows on the wall dance with her movement. “You can drink all your problems away, but don’t think I am cleaning you up after. Father taught me better than that.”  

She silently led him through the solid brick tunnels a little while longer.  

They never seemed to slope downward, but judging from the cool air, Caid could tell they had slipped under the cobblestones of the city.  

“We have to go up for a moment,” Alis said, stopping abruptly.  

Caid looked around, seeing plenty of tunnel left in front of them.  

“Why?”  

He had no fear of the surface, but he felt anxious about what he would face.  

Alis didn’t answer. She braced her foot on the wall and pushed a brick back about four inches, allowing her to put her foot into the groove. Pushing herself and reaching forward, she pressed in another brick, forming a handhold. In seconds, she climbed the wall as these undetectable foot and handholds appeared. At the top, she pressed on the roof of the tunnel, poking her head through the opening.  

“Come on up,” she called back to him.  

Caid looked at the walls, seeing the brick had receded back into place. He tentatively placed his foot into the wall trying to push in a brick, but nothing happened.  

“It’s the redder ones.”  

Caid stepped back, finding several of the bricks were, in fact, a darker shade of red. He stepped forward again, placing the tip of his boot against a darker brick. It moved in without resistance, and he climbed the wall. At the top, he poked his head out, looking around. He failed to realize how long he had been underground; the sun was almost at the horizon now, and people were going home for the evening.  

“What are we doing?”  

The last thing he wanted was to get caught in the after-work traffic. He wanted to stay away from people, but Alis paid him no mind. She turned without saying a word, letting the cover drop back over the now seamless hole.  

Caid followed without choice. He could have blended into the crowd, fading down the warden trails, but there was no guarantee he would walk them alone. Until he knew who was in on this betrayal, he had to avoid meeting another warden.  

The girl moved effortlessly through the crowd. Caid noticed most individuals kept their eyes down as they walked. As a youth, the Wardens had taught him most people would forget anything that did not stand out. He kept his head down in turn, following without complaint.  

They walked for several minutes before Caid realized they were in Oranaos, better known as the slave district. It was easy to tell, as the law forbade both male and female slaves from having hair upon their heads. 

Rather they bore the red X of fealty on either side just above their temples.  

In Maralay, people felt it was too much of a hassle to own slaves. Instead, they rented them by the day for extreme labor, sending them back home at night. Oranaos housed them in their own walled-off portion of the district, away from those with money. 

Oranaos had a no-nonsense stance on crime. Seer Maddoc was a strict, stringent seer. In fact, anyone who lived in Oranaos did so believing the rest of the city was too lenient on criminals.  

“There are no regular people here,” Caid said.  

Alis glanced over her shoulder. “Regular people?”  

“Non-slaves,” Caid replied.  

Then it clicked where they were, they had surfaced right in the middle of the slave walls and that meant Caid and this young girl were the only free people in the entire seclusion.  

“What are we doing here?” Caid asked, trying to think of any good reason to surface in the slave quarters.  

The slaves kept moving as if the disturbance was of no matter to them. Although he doubted, they would mention the anomaly, even if it bothered them.  

Caid took his eyes off the slaves, trying to catch up to Alis, who moved between a group. Caid, who was usually graceful, bumped shoulders with two of them.  

He looked up, ready to apologize, but again recalled people only remembered that which stood out. A long-haired man apologizing to a slave would be something that definitely stood out, so instead, he tucked his head and jogged forward.  

“I really want to know what we are doing here.” He tried to sound demanding without drawing attention.  

Alis stopped, looking directly into his eyes. She was barely tall enough to reach Caid’s chest, but her expression made her look much more mature. She put her hands upon her hips, looking as stern as the mothers in the stories Caid heard growing up.  

“You ask too many questions,” she said. Then she turned, pointing to a line of buildings behind her.  

Caid looked at the buildings, but their importance was lost on him. In fact, they seemed to be in need of general repair. He had no reason to expect more from the slave quarters¾they had been given old scraps to build whatever they could. Even so, these buildings were one strong wind away from collapsing.  

“What is it?” he asked, ignoring her ‘too many questions’ statement.  

She continued pointing and then explained. “It is the only place in Maralay where the slaves can attain clothing.” Alis looked him up and down. “You stand out like a sore thumb. You are clearly a warden, and no one can miss that if they look at you.” 

Caid reached up for the medallion on his neck, which had popped out of his shirt.  

“It isn’t just the necklace, although that does need to be hidden better. It is the leather clothes, the sword on your back, and those boots. No one else can afford to dress like you aside from those with money and power, but they don’t dress like you. You wear your hair down to your shoulders, but you have no rank. You wield a sword but are not an envoy. So that leaves only one conclusion you are a warden and don’t give a hoot about the rest of society’s rules and stipulations. So, you must change your attire, or you will be found quickly by your friends.”  

Alis turned, walking up the path toward the leaning buildings. Caid stood still, watching after her. She was probably right. He had become so accustomed to the attire he failed to think about it making him stand out. He had been so careful not to draw attention to himself, but he was a walking beacon.  

There were few things worse for Caid than giving up his warden attire, his sword, but the choice had already been made for him.  

Caid took off at a jog, catching up to Alis as she entered the building.  

Inside was a new world to Caid. Purian¾the trading district’s worst shop¾put this one to shame. They would still have shopkeepers sitting behind long counters atop cushioned stools, primed and ready to haggle for every coin they could get.  

This was entirely different. Here, two women sat in makeshift wheelchairs, both looking fused to the wooden armrests.  

Caid wondered if they had died, but as he passed by closer, he was sure he saw their chests moving with shallow breaths. He also saw the gray stubble trying to grow in over the red X forever tattooed into their skin.  

Caid walked over to two piles of clothes in the back of the creaking shack.  

“You will pick from these.”  

As Caid looked at the clothes, he was sure he saw two bugs the size of his palm crawling from the larger of the two piles.  

“We can’t just go to a shop in Purian?”  

Caid tried to convince himself this whole thing was a bad idea. His mind was numb and if he had control of his clouded thoughts, he would have seen Alis’s idea was great. Sadly, he felt more like the child of this duo. He partly enjoyed the guidance; not having to make his own decisions meant he couldn’t make the wrong ones. 

“Pick,” she said, pointing to the piles. “After, you can drink your sorrows away, and then I will show you your room.”  

Caid let her think what she wanted to think. He had no plan of going to the taverns in Helios to drink, even if that was what most men would do in his situation. He had other plans, other things he needed to see for himself. If reaching into a bug-infested pile of clothes and losing his leather was the only way to do that, then so be it.  

Caid reached in, picking a torn, olive green pair of pants from the pile. Alis nodded as if she approved, and Caid shrugged. He reached in again, pulling out a purple top with ruffles on the sleeves. He was just about to put it back when Alis spoke up.  

“I love it, those go together so well.”  

Caid looked at the clothes and then Alis. She was so mismatched he doubted she knew what color matching even was. He shrugged again; they would do as well as any other set of clothing.  

Caid moved into the corner and took off his leather attire, standing in only his undergarments and medallion, in the back of the hole-pecked shack.  

“Don’t forget to take off that warden symbol,” Alis reminded him. 

Caid instinctively reached up, clutching the cool metal between his fingers. This necklace had been with him since he was a child. Not since he became a warden had it came off. He rolled the daliwin around in his hand and sighed, pulling it off over his head.  

Caid bunched it into his hand, grabbing his new pants, slipping them on, and shoving the necklace into the pocket. He discarded his old clothes in the corner, knowing he would never see them again. They were just clothes. He could always get new ones.  

Alis, seeing he was dressed, came over to him as he strapped his sword onto his back.  

“You will need to leave that,” she said.  

Caid froze for a second, struggling with the idea.  

“Unless you want to be caught.”  

He would lose everything he had ever known. He found it all hard to accept, but Alis was right. No man would blend in carrying a sword while dressed in rags. He sighed, dropping the sword to the floor with a clank. It’s just a sword.  

“Good,” said Alis, giving him a once-over, “you look fabulous.”  

Caid felt far from fabulous. He felt like a jester in a street play. He was fluffy from the ruffles and holey, neither of which he liked.  

Alis walked away from him, slipping between the sleeping old women a second time. Caid followed suit but stopped midway to the door.  

“Shouldn’t we pay for these?”  

Alis looked at him, perplexed. “Pay with what? These women have no use for coin. They are not allowed to shop for items. Seer Maddoc gives what is necessary to live, and that is all slaves are permitted.”  

Caid almost felt ashamed of himself. He had known slaves had no use for money, but he never stopped to think about it.  

“You know very little of what goes on outside the warden compound, huh?” Alis said, turning again toward the door.  

Caid walked briskly to catch up with her, re-entering the slave quarters.