Chapter 439: Cold Pockets
Cold Pockets
Solday passed quietly with Martel accompanying Mistress Rana on another trip gathering herbs. But the next day, he received a message with an address in the Khivan quarter, telling him to show up after last bell. As the hour approached, Martel went through his drawers, deciding what to wear.
Showing up looking like a fire acolyte seemed a bad idea. Most of his other clothes were too expensive, however, and would make him stand out among the impoverished residents of the district. In the end, he simply chose a woollen shirt along with trousers; it would not provide much warmth against the night chill, but a cloak would help shield him from the cold and attention alike. A scarf helped with both as well.
Satisfied with his choice, Martel removed his robe and put on his other clothes, including his leather armour, just in case. He was not exactly inconspicuous, but as an Asterian, he would always stand out in the Khivan quarter anyway. At least nobody could tell by looking at him that he was a wizard. If he did his magic right, none would have reason to suspect that either. Trying to stay calm despite how uncomfortable he felt about tonight's endeavour, Martel left the Lyceum.
***
The house in the Khivan enclave looked entirely unassuming. When Martel knocked, the door was opened by Jahan, who quickly gestured for him to enter. Inside, he found several others. Vernon from the copper lanes stood together with an old man, who looked frazzled with white tufts of hair and wide eyes. The weathermage, presumably. He looked as if a particularly strong gust might topple him over, but physical appearance had little to do with magical strength, and Martel would not underestimate the old wizard simply because he looked frail.
Next to them stood Ruby and Flora. Martel did not spare the earthmage a second glance. As for the rogue, she gave Martel a sly smile that he was not inclined to reciprocate. "Is everyone here?" he simply asked, looking at Jahan.
The Khivan nodded. "I have people nearby ready to join, should a fight erupt. But for now, everyone involved is present."
"Where do you want your distraction?" Martel did not bother to hide the impatience in his voice. The sooner this was over, the better.
"Perhaps I should go through this one step at a time," Jahan suggested. "First, we will wait as our friend from the copper lanes builds a heavy cover of clouds." He nodded at the weathermage before looking at Martel again. "To the northwest, there is an abandoned house, where the second floor provides you with a good vantage point onto the construction yard. You and Ruby will be hiding there and make the distraction."
Martel turned his head sharply towards her. "Why? I don't need her help to start a fire. Shouldn't you stay with your pet?" He directed the last sentence at Ruby herself.
"Firemages and their temper," Flora sighed while shaking her head.
"Jahan will lead Flora onto the site, as he knows the area best. My presence would only make more noise for them. So I'll stick with you, master wizard, to watch your back while you cast your spells."
Martel had an inkling she would only watch his back to know where she might best plant her knife, but he accepted the explanation. If she tried anything, it would give him an excuse to retaliate.
"If I may continue," Jahan said and cleared his throat. "Once the fire is set and the guards distracted, I will sneak our friend from the bridge district onto the yard, where she might cast her spell and rend the earth asunder."
"Not an easy or quick task," Flora cautioned them. "The more time you can give me, the better. Channelling magic into the earth without it spreading everywhere is quite the challenge, and it'll take a lot of power to create a fracture big enough to cause real damage." She looked at Martel. "So you better keep those fires going and our enemies busy."
"I'll do my part, don't you worry." A bit to his surprise, Martel meant it. While he was still frustrated that he had been forced into this, he did feel sympathetic to the Khivans. If their labours tonight could prevent the building of the insula, also striking a blow against Cheval in the process, he would not complain.
"I'll begin weaving the wind," said the old weathermage with a voice that sounded as frail as he looked.
Martel glanced at Ruby, "I guess we might as well move into position."
"Darling, I thought you'd never ask."
***
The group split up, each going to their post. Martel let Ruby take the lead, preferring to have her in front rather than behind him. He also did a quick check with his magic; no dead pockets that suggested golden weapons on her. Not even jewellery or a single coin; she wore practical clothes that allowed her free movement. Even if her role was to simply act as a lookout, along with the daggers in her belt, she was dressed for a fight.
They reached the empty building meant to serve as their nest. It was clear why despite a lack of housing, nobody had taken up residence. The fire had torched the roof, and the whole structure seemed shaky. Martel once more let Ruby go first, walking up creaking stairs to the upper floor. Only part of the walls remained, but enough to keep them hidden while Martel did his magic.
He looked up at the night sky; at least they did not have to worry about rain even without a roof over their heads. Watching intently, Martel saw the clouds gather to blot out both moon and stars.
"No need to delay," Ruby told him. "We had the longest route. The others will be ready."
Martel nodded briefly and turned his attention on the construction yard across the street. Despite a fence surrounding it, he could peer over the obstacle. Inside lay many slabs of stone and logs of timber. As for tools and equipment, he assumed such would be kept inside the sheds that lay around the area.
He chose the nearest of these shelters as his target. Reaching out, he found it more difficult than expected. The planks of the shed had the same warmth as the surroundings, and the cold night did not help him grasp on to any heat.
Relaxing, Martel expanded his sense of magic. The small building was made of wood and stood surrounded by air. Unlike heat, it was easy to separate between those elements. The distance made it hard, but he finally caught hold of the shed, establishing a magical connection. With some effort, expending some of his strength, Martel made it burst into flames.
He gasped for breath; it had been harder than he imagined. The distance did not help either; it reminded him of the last time he did magic like this in the Khivan quarter, though he had been extinguishing rather than starting fires. Still, it had left him exhausted to the point that he fell unconscious. While this effort had not been nearly as challenging as taming a blaze spanning multiple wooden buildings, Martel had already spent some of his spellpower during class. He felt tired, cold, and ready to go home.
"It's working," Ruby remarked. Across the street, shouts could be heard. Martel sat down with his back against what remained of the wall. She glanced down at him. "Don't you need to look?"
"No. It's easier to keep track of what's happening this way." He closed his eyes for good measure, letting his magic inform him of what happened. The fire burned brightly before his inner sight; smaller sources of heat came running towards it.
"What does it feel like?"
The question, sounding so earnest, pulled Martel from his reverie. He looked up to see Ruby staring back at him, her expression reflecting the sentiment in her voice. "You mean magic?"
"Yes. Casting spells. Starting a fire with just your mind."
Martel exhaled slowly. "It feels like taking a deep breath of fresh air after you've been coughing."
"You're lucky."
"Maybe."
She crouched next to him, likewise hiding behind the remnants of the wall, but keeping her eyes peering over the top to watch the construction yard and the street. "What's there to be unsure about?"
"If it gets me killed, am I really better off than if I had been born without any gift?"
He could almost feel her shaking her head. "You're not dead yet. At least your gift gives you a chance to decide what happens to you. That's better than relying purely on the whims of fate."
"I'm not sure I'm free of those whims even with magic by my side. It feels more like it just gives me the illusion of control." Martel made another sensory investigation of the fire; it had lessened. He would need to feed it magic to keep them from extinguishing it too quickly.
"People on the street. Looking suspicious."
It took Martel a moment to catch on; the tone in her voice rather than her words alerted him that something was odd. He reached out with his magic; the fire was still burning, but those on the site were putting it out. He would have to feed it to keep it going, or the distraction would already be over. "Wait. There's people on the street?"
"Yeah. They're moving in our direction, but they're creeping along the walls."
Martel felt a bolt of dread shoot through him. "They're here for me. We have to run." He got on his feet but remained crouching low.
"How do you know?"
"Because I don't feel any people on the street, only pockets of cold. Like inquisitors, wearing gold."
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