By the time The Winter’s Debt arrived at Tarn’s Reach, the sun was already setting. Noah had spent most of the afternoon with Ken, writing the runes for the two spells over and over until they met the elderly Fae’s standards. The process was excruciating, but it went faster than the first few spells he’d learned—something Ciri assured him would continue as he expanded his repertoire.
Of course, it’s all theory at this point, Noah had thought. Ken wasn’t using his writ, and I don’t even have one, so it’s not like I could write spells anyway.
When he couldn’t take any more rune-writing, he checked on the griffon egg secured safely in his bag before digging out his new grappling hook and practicing with it. After asking what he was doing, Hannah surprisingly endorsed the activity, allowing him to use one of the smaller foremasts as a target. He encouraged Ciri to practice alongside him, and after an hour they’d both mastered the motion well enough to land a throw one out of every two attempts.
He wanted to keep practicing, but when Hannah discovered the hooks were leaving marks on the mast she demanded they stop immediately.
She refused to speak to them for the rest of the trip, muttering about how they were putting holes in her ship. Noah tried to apologize, but she gave him the cold shoulder, leading to nearly an hour of awkward silence. It only broke when he announced he was going belowdecks to nap, and that someone should wake him before they arrived if he wasn’t already up. Ciri joined him less than five minutes later, providing both of them with a very pleasurable—if discreet—distraction before falling asleep with him in his hammock.
They re-emerged when they began to hear distant rumbling and clanking. Noah’s eyes widened as he watched rolling hills of farmland give way to brick walls, cobblestone roads, and buildings that wouldn’t look out of place in Victorian-era London. Magical machines with exposed cogs and gears hissed steam as their screeching, grinding parts moved alongside strange beasts of burden on chaotic streets. Overhead, seagull-looking birds with hooked beaks dove into the water before re-emerging with shellfish.
Even from a distance, Noah could see that the city itself was built on a hill and ringed by a thick stone wall. Guards patrolled the parapets, walking back and forth as they looked down on the harbour below. Hannah skillfully guided them towards one of the docks, lashing them to it with thick ropes before lowering the sails.
“I’ve got business to deal with,” the half-Fae trader shouted over the din the second she was done. “Someone needs to stay with the boat.”
“I will,” Ken offered. “I have no desire to enter into that—”
“Great.” Hannah bounded onto the dock and strode away at a brisk pace.
Noah looked at Ciri, then at Ken. “You sure you’re okay here on your own?”
Ken chuckled, seeing the pleading in Noah’s eyes. “Go. See the city. Just be back before dawn. Though if you don’t mind, I’ll use your twin mirror to call my wives.”
With an enormous grin, Noah stepped onto the dock. He watched as Ciri handed him her ensorcelled necklace before offering her his hand to help her out of the boat. She pulled her hood over her head to hide her hair and ears before taking it, stepping lightly onto the creaky wooden pier beside him.
“I’d…rather not be seen, and the necklace draws too much attention.” She explained when he looked at her funny. “Wild Fae tend to draw attention in human cities.”
“What do you mean?” He asked as they proceeded down the docks.
“Many humans fear us for our knowledge of magic. The more powerful ones want to use us for the same reason. I would rather avoid both scenarios, if possible.”
Unfortunately for them, any more hopes at a discreet conversation died as every step towards the city made the clanking machines around them grow louder. Through the masts of the hundreds of ships moored at the docks, Noah could see cranes loading and unloading heavy wooden crates, their exposed, poorly lubricated gears shrieking and smoking as they worked. He stopped dead when one shook so violently that it dropped its cargo into the water, prompting several men to dive in after it.
When they reached the edge of the docks, Noah looked around to see dozens of people dressed in rags and aprons stained with oil, sprinting from one machine to another with watering cans fitted with narrow spouts. None of them spared him a glance as they rushed past, and he wrinkled his nose at the smell of rancid grease and burning tallow. Doing his best not to stare, he watched them don the goggles hanging loosely around their necks before pouring lubricant across various joints until the machines became slightly quieter.
They don’t have bearings, Noah realized as he idly swatted at a nearby fly. So all the machines they’ve developed are louder, hotter, and angrier.
Farther from the gate, several people huddled around what looked like a broken crane, stripping it for parts. Iron bolts and wooden planks were sorted into neat piles on a trio of sleds lashed together. At the head of the train stood a single beast—six-legged, broad-backed, with thick brown leathery skin.
“What is that?” Noah asked loudly enough to be heard over the ever-present noise.
“It is a dray beast,” Ciri answered. “Humans domesticated them and use them as beasts of burden.”
“It looks like a hairless cow with a horse’s mane,” Noah observed, watching it turn its head to reveal a placid, bovine expression.
“Humans also have cows and horses, which they brought with them to Tenebrae,” she replied. “But the dray beast is native.”
Suddenly, a woman cried out in triumph as she pulled a piece from the broken crane. The other scavengers rushed to her side as she held the metal component aloft before passing it around. Cries of ‘it still spins’ and ‘we’re going to be okay’ rose even over the din.
Noah tore his eyes away and refocused ahead, noting the small line leading to a guard booth in front of the enormous stone gateway. Thick wooden doors separated the docks from the city beyond. With a nod to Ciri, he led the way, keeping her hand firmly clasped in his. When they reached the front, a bored-looking guard spoke from behind a small wooden podium without looking up.
“State your business,” he said.
The man wore a charcoal brigandine and a leather gorget beneath a long navy trench coat with brass buttons. A steel skullcap was strapped to his head, and at his side hung both a truncheon and a short sword. His outfit was completed by well-worn black leather boots and the insignia of a stylized yellow-and-black anchor stitched to his sleeve. Noah noticed that all the nearby guards were similarly outfitted, though some carried halberds instead of swords.
“Just stopping for the night,” Ciri replied before Noah could. “We’re leaving for Braemont in the morning.”
“Entry tax is three gold coins,” the man said, scribbling something illegible into the logbook before holding out his hand. “Each.”
Noah fished out the coins and placed them in the guard’s palm. “There.”
The guard looked at the coins, then at the two of them. His eyes lingered on Ciri for several long moments, making Noah’s anxiety spike. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, which he wiped away with the back of his hand.
“You’re clear to enter,” the guard said at last, jerking his thumb before shouting at the line behind them. “Next!”
They moved around the podium and shuffled through the gateway. Unfortunately, the noise didn’t dull—it amplified. The sights, smells, and sounds assaulted them in waves, forcing them to wince and grit their teeth.
They emerged into an open-air market where vendors hawked everything from weapons to scrap metal and parts to books. A squat contraption with reciprocating pistons shuddered and banged as someone used it to pump filthy brown water into a bucket. More cranes cranked nearby, loading goods onto sleds pulled by teams of dray beasts, donkeys, and mules.
People wearing goggles, strange hats, earplugs, or a combination of all three cooked various meats and unidentifiable produce directly over iron vents built into the cobblestones. The smells of oil, smoke, and sweat mixed into a choking haze, attracting a swarm of insects overhead. Animals brayed and barked and people standing next to each other shouted to be heard, adding to the seemingly ever-present din of the heavy machinery grinding around them.
Noah’s eyes narrowed at one of the vents as a gull-like creature landed nearby and hopped forward to steal a piece of meat. A nearby dog chased it off, and only then did Noah notice the vent was connected to an iron pipe. His gaze followed it to a stone building set back from the street, its doors thrown open. Through the shimmering heat, he saw a heavy reciprocating press driven by a flywheel, which in turn powered what looked like a printing press.
The screech of metal-on-metal emanating from the workshop was overpowering, forcing everyone nearby to shout to be heard.
I should have stayed on the boat with Ken, Noah thought as they pushed through the throngs of humanity, machinery, and beasts, choosing a street almost at random just to escape the noise.
Thankfully, as they moved uphill away from the docks and the industrial quarter, the noise began to subside. People still shouted at one another even when close enough to touch noses, but Noah couldn’t tell whether it was drunkenness from the nearby taverns or widespread hearing loss. More water pumps appeared at regular intervals and, though they were better maintained, none had proper seals and all leaked. Both he and Ciri nearly slipped on the rainbow-colored oil slicks coating the ground, forcing them to cling to one another for balance.
“Please, sir, spare a coin for an orphan?” a voice nearby called to him.
He turned to see a child at the front of a dead-end alley. She was gaunt to the point of being skeletal, with tanned skin, dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and tattered brown clothes. As he looked closer, he realized she couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen.
Feeling sorry for her, he started to move down the alley, only for a look of fear to suddenly cross her face. She began to walk backward until she flattened herself against the back wall, her eyes darting from side to side. Seeing her hesitation, Noah froze, taking out the gold coin and holding it in the air.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I just want to give you this.”
Her expression suddenly changed from one of fear to one of avarice. She whistled loudly, and a pair of older boys—likely sixteen or seventeen—moved to block the street behind them, trapping him and Ciri. At the same time, several children appeared on the flat tops of nearby roofs, makeshift slingshots loaded with stones pointed at them.
“How ’bout you give us all your gold?” the girl said through a sneer, fully dropping the innocent act and revealing her true accent.
Realizing they’d been tricked, Ciri moved to his side and switched to Fae in a whisper. “Noah. The ones behind us have knives.”
How did they know I’d fall for that? She obviously picked on us because I didn’t hear anything before. Noah thought as narrowed his eyes at the girl in front of him. “How about you tell your friends to back off instead?”
“Or what? You’ll kill us?” She laughed harshly. “The guards don’t look none too kindly on murder.”
“I’ll bet they don’t look too kindly on thieves either.”
She rolled her eyes. “You think I’m afraid of lockup? I’ll be out in a week. All I ’ave to do is bat my eyes at the magistrate and they’ll let me go.”
Clever girl, Noah thought as the gears in his mind spun. I don’t want to kill them, but I don’t want to give them all my money.
“Noah.” Ciri tugged on his arm urgently. “If they come any closer they’ll see my face.”
Eyes going wide with realization, Noah spoke. “Who said I was going to kill you? I’ve got something far worse in store for you.” He gestured to Ciri. "My friend here? She's a Wild Fae, and she has spells that will—" He stopped, unable to find the right words in Common, then tried again. "Your brain. Grey paste. That's what happens."
The boys behind her stopped, even as the girl narrowed her eyes. “Fae? Yeah right.”
Nudging Ciri with his elbow, Noah spoke in a low tone in Fae. “Just pull back your hood a little. Not all the way.”
“Are you sure?” Ciri asked. “It will draw attention to us. Unwanted attention.”
“Nobody’s going to believe her,” Noah replied.
The girl stared, transfixed, as Ciri pulled back her hood just enough to reveal her Fae features, causing the girl’s eyes to go wide with genuine terror. Ciri quickly lowered it again, eyes darting to ensure no one else had seen. The rest of the children around them tightened their grips on their weapons, rattled by the fact that their leader was scared.
“Go,” the girl said in a low voice, before speaking to her bodyguards behind them. “Let ’em leave.”
The boys moved to the side of the alley, and Noah turned to lead Ciri out before hesitating. “Wait.” He said, curiosity getting the better of him.
“What?” the girl asked, fearful again.
“How did you know we had coin?”
“We got our ways.”
“I’d recommend being a little more forthcoming than that,” Noah said, nodding to Ciri as a threat.
She clenched her jaw for several long moments before responding. “We saw you. By the docks.” She narrowed her eyes at one of the children on the roof for a moment. “Of course, if someone’d done their job right we wouldn’t have bothered a fucking—”
“How did you know to target us?” Noah cut her off.
“You’re outsiders with money. Plain as day,” she replied. “And we gotta eat.”
Looking at the children around him, feelings of guilt began to bubble to the surface. Despite the fact that they’d just threatened to rob and murder them, all he saw were gaunt and hungry faces—obviously forced into a bad situation. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the girl.
“How was that plain as day?” He pressed.
She shook her head. “Hard to explain.”
Gears turning in his mind, Noah made a decision. “I take it you’re the ringleader of this little…group.”
“Sure. Why?”
“Why don’t you show us to a tavern or something around here, and I’ll buy you all some food? You can give me a little information while we eat.”
“Information?”
“Yeah.”
She crossed her arms, thinking about it, before nodding. “Fine. Tavern’s a few streets over.”
“If you try to steal from us on the way, my Fae friend will turn your brain into goo.”
She held up three fingers on her left hand. “On my honor. Promise.”
This should be interesting, Noah thought.