Springtime in Imardin was, in many people's opinions, the best time of year. This was particularly evident in the Guild, where the infusion of magic in the air along with the fresh breath of the new year brought out the finest blooms and trees in all Kyralia. As flowers danced and birds overhead darted and swooped, the trees, gnarled, old giants and fresh, young saplings stretched out their arms to the pale, yellow sun shining in the sky above them. As Melissa stepped out of the stables, shielding her eyes with one hand and leading her horse, Chesa, with the other, she could have sworn it had increased its brilliance tenfold in the few minutes she had been inside.
She did not shrink from its heated light, fearful for her complexion like so many female novices were, but spread out her arms wide so her body could soak up as much sun as it wanted. After a little while, she gathered the reins up in her fist and clicked her tongue at Chesa, who moved forward so her mistress had only to cling to the saddle and pull herself up. Melissa clicked again, twice this time, and Chesa immediately broke into a trot. They made a striking pair as they rode through the grounds in the direction of the Healers' Quarters: the small girl with her long silken black curls bouncing around her face, sitting confidently atop the magnificent brown mare who placed her hooves with the precision and accuracy of a thoroughbred.
Melissa gently nudged the horse's flanks; Chesa obediently changed the trot to a canter and then, when she felt Melissa ram the stirrups into her side, broke into a full gallop. Melissa's long hair streamed out behind her, rippling like a black waterfall. The merest tug on the reins brought Chesa to a halt as they arrived at the main door of the Healers' Quarters. To her delight, Melissa saw a familiar green-robed figure exit the building. They locked eyes.
"Lady Kalia!" Melissa exclaimed.
The Healer smiled back at her. "Good morning, Melissa. You look pretty well-rested today. As opposed to me."
Kalia gestured to the shadows beneath her eyes. Melissa grimaced in sympathy.
"Couldn't you have Healed the sleeplessness away?" she asked.
"Yes, I could," Kalia replied. "But I prefer real sleep as a remedy. And anyway, I'm completely drained after last night. I can't even make a globe light at the moment."
"Is my mother still there?" Melissa asked, referring to the hospital that had been set up in the slums, commandeered by Sonea. Kalia had come there when she was fifteen and magical potential had been found. Facing opposition from a steadily decreasing faction of snobbish magicians, she had immediately joined the Guild.
"Yes," said Kalia now. "None of us can wait till Lord Darlen has healed, what with the number of dwells coming in everyday. But you know broken bones; they hate being rushed."
"I don't think Mama minds," said Melissa. "She gets to help more dwells this way. Though she did say we'd better think about building another slum hospital soon."
"That would be a welcome relief," muttered Kalia. She attempted to hide a yawn behind her hand but Melissa wasn't fooled.
"Well, I'd better get going, my lady. I only came this way because I was hoping my mother would be back. Good morning."
"Good bye, Melissa," answered Kalia. "Am I right in thinking that you're going to meet that that Thief friend of yours in the slums again?"
"Harry, yes," smiled Melissa. "And he's not a Thief."
"Not yet," said Kalia. "Give him time. And I think your mother will have left the hospital by now so you should take that route if you want to see her."
"Thanks, I will," called Melissa as she turned Chesa around and galloped out of the Guild grounds into the city.
Outside the North Quarter gates she slowed as she came in sight of the hospital which had been established by her mother thirteen years ago, just a few months before Melissa's birth. As she had hoped, she soon spotted a ring composed of the assorted red, purple and green robes of the magicians escorting her mother, a slight figure in black in their midst.
Sonea's head snapped up as she heard the horse's feet approach. A welcoming smile lit up her features when she saw the rider.
"Melissa," she said warmly.
"Mama," Melissa replied as she nimbly dismounted and walked through the throng of magicians around her mother who parted to give her space.
"Where are you going?" asked Sonea. "I gave you those history books to read because I thought you were going to stay at home today."
"I was," said Melissa. "But after breakfast I got a message from Harry. It sounded pretty urgent since he wanted me to come right away. I came looking for you to get permission, Mama."
"How long will it take?" asked Sonea.
"About an hour."
"Alright then," said Sonea. "You can go but hurry."
"I will. Thanks, Mama," said Melissa, giving her mother's hand a squeeze before going back to Chesa.
As she rode away she glanced back over her shoulder. The magicians had resumed walking. Sonea was gazing over her shoulder at Melissa. Melissa thought she could make out tiny worry lines on her mother's brow. She didn't have any time to think about it however, for at that moment she had to steer Chesa away from a group of children kicking a ball around
Five minutes later they cantered to a stop outside a bolhouse in the better part of the slums. The sign giving its name, the Merry Magician, creaked lustily in the wind as Melissa jumped off Chesa and signaled to a passing stable boy who immediately took the reins and led Chesa off to a stall.
Melissa entered the building and looked around for an empty table. She spotted one in a corner and made towards it, pausing to grab a mug of bol from a waitress' tray. As the woman started to protest, Melissa took a step forward so a beam of sunlight coming into the dim bolhouse lit up her face. The waitress stopped her tirade and gulped. She stepped back hastily as Melissa advanced past her to the table.
During the encounter, a boy in his late teens had grabbed a chair at it and made no attempt to move as Melissa approached. Then he looked up into her face and his own turned stark white and he made a choking noise at the back of his throat. He hurriedly scrambled to his feet and scuttled away like a frightened crab.
Melissa smiled as she sat down in the vacated seat. Being friends with a Thief's son certainly had its advantages, she thought as she tossed a coin towards the waitress as payment for the bol( the man who had ordered it on the first place had made no complaint).
Speaking of which… Melissa frowned as she scanned the late morning crowds for Harry's face and did not see it. A hand touching her shoulder made her start and she nearly slopped bol over herself as she spun around. When she saw the hand's owner she felt her face break into a smile.
"About time you showed up," she said nonchalantly as Harry sat down in the chair opposite her and plonked his boots up on the table. None of the waiters or the barman complained. Everyone in the neighbourhood knew that Harry's father Ceryni was head of the Thieves in that area as well as other parts of the slums. The Thief was known to be very disagreeable to anyone who crossed him or any of his kin, which included Harry, Melissa and Sonea, whom Cery had once loved and was still good friends with, although they hardly ever saw each other.
Harry shrugged. "Not my fault. Da kept me back for something."
"You're the one who wanted the meeting," Melissa reminded him. "And Mama wants me back in an hour so hurry up with it."
"You told her it would take just an hour?" gaped Harry.
Melissa blinked. "Sure, I thought it would."
"But-Mels-" said Harry, "it's gonna take at least two."
"Why?" asked Melissa. "What are you talking about?"
"I don't know how to explain it," said Harry. "Cery'll be able to do it better-c'mon-" "Harry, what-?"Melissa began. That was all she had time to say before Harry took her hand and tugged her through the crowd of dirty, unwashed bodies and stale, musty air to the large, busy but open street outside where he let go of her hand, to her slight irritation.
"We're going to meet your da?" she asked.
"Yeah," said Harry. "You'll see why when we get there." He started off at a brisk walk and she had no option but to follow.
They walked for about ten minutes through the darker back alleys, taking a few short cuts over tin roofs under which the occupants were too busy and tired to protest. The houses, the streets and the people became smaller, smellier and dingier as they progressed further into the slums. The lanes turned into muddy paths and garbage lined them as hedges did the paths in the Guild. Finally, they stopped by a house into whose low wall a grille had been set. Harry pushed it open with his foot and they clambered down onto the Thieves' Road.