Night had always been her favorite time of day. It did not matter where she traveled, the fall of the sun below the horizon never failed to bring relief. Now, her steps light and silent, she wandered through the emptying streets in search of a cheap place to stay. By chance, the young woman had heard precisely what she needed that afternoon. What had begun as a tale by a dying fire had blown into a whisper, which had twisted into an underground rumor that was barely confirmed in a hushed conversation overheard on a street corner. Ren had never been truly lucky, but today the gods seemed to have had a change of heart concerning her fate.
Spying a sign that spelled “Inn” in flaking green paint, Ren slipped into a building that most travelers would have cringed at and passed over. She plunked a few thalas onto the gouged wooden counter and was handed a rusting key with a number engraved at the top. At some point tonight, she would have to work; the purse concealed in an inner pocket felt dangerously light. More important, however, was constructing a plan for the next day.
In her room, Ren spread out several oddly annotated maps on the floor and closely inspected them. The people on the corner had said it was in Lochenhenge, all the way across the country from Rhelys. Alas, location could not be helped. To get there…by foot was out of the question; experienced as she was, Ren did not want to walk from end to end of Anaitis. She couldn’t afford a horse, either, and a horse would make her a target of thieves. To sail would take far too long. That left her the option of joining a caravan. Quickly, Ren scrutinized the maps again; if there were villages and towns along the route, she could work and easily pay her way in a coach car. The idea seemed better and better as she thought about it. A caravan would provide safe transport and a way to hear news. Ren smiled to herself and decided to visit the advertising navigators in the morning.
Rolling up the maps, she organized her few belongings and fastened a thin black cloak around her shoulders. The sea wind made nights in Rhelys chilly, and Ren knew that she would be grateful for the extra warmth the cloak afforded before dawn came. With a final glance at the shoddy room, she slid out of the window onto the roof below and dropped into a pile of hay. A horse regarded her with interest, blinking slowly. Ren scrambled to her feet and sped from the inn, eager to conduct her business.
There were many cemeteries in Rhelys, but the one she chose to visit that night was in one of the city’s wealthier districts. The Casini cemetery was always filled with offerings and gifts from the elite citizens, colorful, ornate things that screamed out to be taken by the businesspeople of the night. Ren glided through the wide avenues of the rich folk, not so much unseen as unnoticed. With only the quietest scrape she pushed the iron gate open, surveying the orderly array of marble laid out before her. Wandering deep into the tombstones, where her actions would be unobserved, Ren examined the contents of small wooden boxes and intricately designed compartments built into the graves. Her topical search yielded an antique garnet necklace, several pouches of coins, two pots of rare herbs, and a loaf of fine bread. The girl smiled as she stole out of the graveyard, silently thanking the dead for their gifts, and hastily made her way back to the inn.
Tomorrow, she thought, tearing a chunk from the bread with her teeth, tomorrow it will actually begin.
