Getting a couple hours of sleep between long days wasn’t anything new. If anything, the practice from his military days sufficiently equipped him to endure a life of persecution. Oz found it unfortunate that his associates were also accustomed to this. The freighthoppers disembarked before both sunrise and entering city limits; vagrants didn’t fare well when caught by railway authorities, fared even worse if the Myr became involved. They walked parallel to the tracks, keeping an eye out for patrols until they came upon a major road. The tracks led them to Luseheim.
The municipality was one of the bigger ones that Oz had stumbled upon during his run. Cities and towns shared both risks and opportunities equally, but he avoided the former as overzealous Bloodcloaks tended to create unnecessary collateral damage—yet always transferred liability to the casters they ran down. Luseheim hosted a number of alleyways where locals minded their own. Oz leaned against a closed door, keeping watch of both ends of the lane as Rusuuz and Blair slept in another doorway. He didn’t like the possibility of being closed in, but they weren’t afforded many chances to rest.
Guspare had gone off somewhere, probably in search of a lavatory. The older man could easily blend into a crowd and disappear; Oz often wondered why he hadn’t already done so. After all, I’m no stranger to desertion. Sunlight encroached on the walls above him, slowly creeping toward him—threatening him with illumination and the exposure it brought. What are we even doing? Saeden-Clach is wishful thinking at its worst. Such a place couldn’t exist, even if it did, the community of spell-crafters would have been sold out to and razed by the Zherrai-Myr without hesitation. That’s just how people were.
Oz felt eyes on him. He briefly glanced towards the adjacent streets but didn’t see anyone peering in. Turning his attention to his wards, he found Blair peering up at him, Rue slept soundly—her head resting upon their shoulder.
“Gus mention at all where he was going?” Oz asked in a hushed tone.
“How would I know?” Blair said with a scowl. “What am I, his keeper?”
Oz remembered being that young and that angry, serving under the Bear’s regiment stamped that out of him with no quarter—Magdalene Gerard earned that moniker both on and off the proving grounds. For all of the chips on their shoulder, Blair might have been made for military life; but their insufferable, cantankerous personality undoubtedly would have had them sent packing before the end of basic training. “Stay put.” He stepped out of the doorway and began walking south, maneuvering between refuse bins and wayward debris. With every step, every muscle in his body ached as if demanding a proper rest, he ignored it then, he would continue to ignore it until he was truly safe. Who’s to say that anywhere abroad is any safer?
The light-soaked street made him wince as he stepped out of the alleyway. As far as any passerby were concerned, he was just another beggar emerging to commence his daily panhandling and paid him with a wider berth. As far as Oz was able to see, the city did not appear to host a significant presence of Bloodcloaks, but just because they weren’t openly patrolling the streets did not necessarily indicate inactivity. He scanned the faces of the crowds and passerby; none paid him any mind. If they regarded casters with the same indifference as they do the homeless, I’d settle for even that. Only ordinary citizens going about their typical businesses. At least, until a woman directly approached him.
Oz wasn’t good at determining ages, but he estimated that she may have been a few years younger than him. Despite their difference in height, the woman stared him down as if as if she was just as tall and imposing. Oz tensed up, his muscles’ complaints went quiet. If I retreat into the alley, I might be walking into an ambush. His composure did not betray his inner turmoil; he stayed expressionless as the woman’s deep brown eyes bore into him.
“You need help.” She finally said.
His shoulders were in the process of sagging when he regained his guard. She’s probably just concerned and trying to do a good deed. Oz rationalized. “Oh, no. But thank you.”
The woman didn’t yield, she just shook her head. “No, you definitely need help.”
Oz swallowed the instinctive reaction to slug this woman and run away. “I appreciate your concern.” He said with a slightly intimidating undertone. “But I am just fine; I am not in need of any help.”
She pursed her lips. “No, I don’t think so.” She huffed and looked around for a moment. Was she about to call attention to him? Oz took a step backward. “No, no.” Without looking at him, the woman held up a palm. “Don’t go anywhere, I’m jus—there!” The woman snatched Oz’s wrist while pointing at the intersection. “Watch closely!” Oz’s free arm was tense, ready to thrust a fist, but he followed the finger’s direction. At the crossroads, a crowd began to part way. “In just a moment, a Bloodcloak is going to come trotting through that juncture and a vendor’s cart will overturn.” She explained. Oz raised his fist at the mention of the Zherrai-Myr, but his concentration returned to the intersection as shouts rang out.
Just as the woman said, a Bloodcloak on horseback came charging into view. A man pushing a handcart hurried to clear the path, only to nearly collide with the horse. His cart tilted over and crashed, wares scattering across the cobblestones. The vendor and the Zherrai-Myr—A damn Judiczar, at that!—hurled obscenities at each other as bystanders kept their distance. Oz lowered his fist. “H-how did you—”
The woman spun around to face him, a triumphant, indignant smirk on her face. “So, now do you believe me when I tell you that you need help?”
Oz crept back into the alleyway as the commotion drew attention. “Fine, but who are you?”
The woman followed him between the buildings. “My name is Audrey; you and your companions need to come with me.”
He stood over her. “How do I know that you’re not some turncoat?”
Audrey flung her hands up and kept her voice low. “What more do you want me to prove?”
Oz paused, her efforts at discretion weren’t lost on him. The most prominent side effect of living this kind of life was that trust was a commodity, it was unheard of for someone in his position to be approached so brazenly with the offer for help. But, helped to what extent? “I’m sorry.” He exhaled. “You must understand—”
Audrey shook her head. “Believe me when I tell you, I do understand.” She glanced around Oz. “So when your other companion returns, you can follow me.”
Joining them on Oz’s right side were Blair and Rue. “Who’s this?” Rue asked, still wiping her sleeve against her eyes.
Oz frowned at Audrey. “Audrey, how did you know how many of us there were?”
Audrey shook Rue’s hand, then Blair’s. “Divination.” She turned to the mouth of the alleyway to ensure they were out of earshot. “I had a vision of the arrival of two me—” she stopped herself and glanced at Blair for a moment longer than necessary. With a furrowed brow, she continued “—a group of four casters on the run. I felt compelled to seek you out before the Bloodcloaks did.”
The air in the alleyway thickened with an unbearable tension, growing icy and suffocating, even as the warm sunlight poured over them. “We were going to be caught?” Blair asked in a hushed voice. Rue drew closer to them.
“I didn’t see that, but didn’t want to chance it.” Audrey reassured. “My visions are vague, but give me enough clues to get a general idea.”
“Oh good,” a voice traveled down the alley from the other end, “you’re all still here.” Guspare jogged up to the group, his eyes fell on Audrey. “Oh, who’s this?”
“And that makes four.” Audrey nodded.
“Where have you been?” Oz and Blair rounded off together.
“Funny story,” Gus pointed to Blair. “I saw your Bloodcloaks.” He tapped his temple “Memorized their features.”
“So you would’ve been the reason we’d be caught!” Blair snarled.
Gus was taken aback. “Hardly, they were more focused on keeping the Judiczar from using them as his new boots.”
“There’s a Judiczar here?” Rue gasped.
Audrey stepped in between them all, her hands raised. “If you’d all come with me, we can peacefully scratch and spit in a more secure location.
Oz shared a look with each companion before returning to the diviner. “Lead the way.”