Firebrand
Chapter 86: Chasing Fortune

Chasing Fortune

Martel thought about Sparrow, the little girl with wheat-coloured hair, dirt on her face, and her arm wrapped in a bandage made from his shirt. "Do you know where she went? Where she was last seen?"

Weasel nodded. "Yeah, I've had Badger and Mole track her steps, but they lost the trail. And I can't send my younger ones out searching after dark, especially not with a child-snatcher on the loose."

"I will go look for her," Martel declared.

"I thought you said your magic can't help."

"I got eyes. And I imagine time is of the essence here."

"I will help," came Eleanor's soft voice. "There is a full moon tonight. Plenty of light. We should make the most of it and go now."

The little chief looked at the two mages. "Alright, I'll take you. Badger is still out there anyway, keeping an eye on the area, and I don't want him walking home alone." He turned towards his flock. "Bolt the doors after we've gone, and don't open up for anyone but me."

~

A strange trio walked through the slums on moonlit streets. A noble woman wearing tunic and trousers, a young man in a robe much like a scribe's apprentice, and an urchin in rags. None of them spoke, the mood suppressed by the severity of the situation. They moved with such speed, Weasel almost had to run to keep up.

"Down here, from what Mole told me." Weasel let them down an alley and gave a shrieking howl like a wounded cat, startling both of his companions. Shortly after, Badger appeared. His chief gave him a nod. "What's the situation?"

"We tracked Sparrow to here." Badger pointed with his thumb at the broad avenue next to them, which served as one of the larger routes of traffic through the slums. "We think she went down one of the alleys here, but there's dozens. Too many doors for us to check what's behind all of them."

"So what do we do?" Martel asked. It felt ridiculous asking a small child, but this was their home ground, and he had no ideas himself. Suddenly, his magic felt useless. If they found the person who took Sparrow, he would happily set the culprit on fire, but Martel had never heard of any magic to locate someone in need.

"I've been keeping an eye on a suspicious character while Mole fetched you," Badger revealed, sticking his head out of the alley to look down the street. A handful of people could be seen, ambling this way or that, quite a few in inebriated state. "He wears rich clothes, like you." He nodded at Eleanor.

"That is not suspicious," she protested.

"Rich fellow, walking alone in the copper lanes, making a mark of himself? Only entertainment found here and not elsewhere is the illegal kind," Weasel considered. "Definitely suspicious. Where is he now?"

Badger cast another look down the street. "He went inside that house, five doors down. That was maybe half a bell ago."

"So what should we do?" Martel asked. "If he has Sparrow in there, we have to charge in, right?"

Badger shook his head. "He went in alone, and other people have been going in and out. I don't think Sparrow is in there."

"So we wait until he leaves and follow him," Weasel said.

"And if he leaves the copper lanes to go home? We have no reason to assume he will return to where Sparrow is, if he is indeed the guilty party, which is also doubtful," Eleanor pointed out.

Martel took a deep breath. "Then we'll have to confront him."

~

They waited for over an hour in the alley, taking turns to watch the street. They spoke little; as before, none felt inclined. While the full moon rose higher and higher, they saw people stumble in and out of the location also playing host to their suspect. Finally, he emerged.

Walking along the shadows of the houses, his face was hidden at first, even as he approached in their direction. Anxious to avoid discovery, the small group pressed into the darkness of the alley. The two children disappeared entirely, while Eleanor's dark tunic helped her hide as well. Martel, in his brown robe, ducked beneath a half-broken crate. Yet curiosity got the best of him; he could not help but watch as the mysterious character passed the opening of the alley.

As the fellows staggered by, fully illuminated by the moon, Martel jumped up in surprise. "Max!"

The mageknight turned around, balancing somewhat precariously on his feet, with a wineskin dangling in one hand. "Martel, my boy! Of all the people I would run into, in all the places!"

The others emerged from their hiding spots. "You don't really understand how following someone works, do you," Weasel snorted.

"This is Maximilian of Marche," Eleanor explained, sounding annoyed. "He's not your villain."

"I most certainly am not! I resent any such accusation."

"But Max, what are you doing here, and at this time of night?" Martel asked.

"Playing dice, my friend, and being scorned by Fortuna herself."

"But you could do that anywhere."

"No he cannot, as all legitimate gambling establishments forbid mages from playing. So you come here," Eleanor spoke with a hint of contempt.

"The Golden Goose found me out," Maximilian related sadly. "I can never play there again. But what about you? Are you also out trying your luck?"

"A little girl is missing," Martel explained, feeling exasperated both with his friend's drunken behaviour, but also because they had wasted all this time and had no further trails to follow. "We are trying to replace her."

"That is dreadful. Well, I hope you succeed!" Maximilian waved a hand in a poor attempt at a salute and turned to walk away.

"You're not going to help us?" The novice asked in disbelief.

The mageknight gestured towards the city at large. "Where do you suggest we look? I gather you have searched that particular alley, which still leaves quite a few."

Mole appeared. "Sparrow is back," the boy gasped, causing a shock.

"What? When, how? Does she know all the time we spent looking for her?" Weasel asked with anger.

"Someone did take her, but she managed to escape. She's back at the house, scared out of her wits. He's still out there," Mole explained.

Maximilian gestured with his wineskin. "I will admit, I am intrigued. Lead the way to this songbird, and let us hear the tale."