Chapter 233 – Chase

Chapter 233 – Chase

 

A cloudy cloak draped over the moons, leaving only the cold crystal lamps to illuminate the streets of Higharbor. Beyond the shops and stalls of Ring Road, voices and bodies grew sparse.

Flynn stole a glance over his shoulder. A band of drunken sailors sang a lewd shanty about the three sirens, while a woman smoked a pipe on a balcony two floors up. None of his perception skills detected suspicious individuals, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being followed.

That merchant has made me paranoid.

What should have been a done deal had turned into an hours-long argument. Somehow the oily guy had found out the black market price of cloaking spheres and wanted to renegotiate. As if the Free Brothers or the Spirits’ Hand would trust a foreign merchant; not even private buyers would step into the same building as him without a trusted intermediary.

Why did I trust Nem again? His tips always bring more trouble than they’re worth.

The demand for privacy wards had soared with the Republic’s stifling presence. Restricted goods skirted the line of legality. The wealthy and powerful didn’t like being told what they weren’t allowed to have, so possession of lower-tiered items wasn’t a crime—trafficking, however, was another matter. Punishment ranged from a hefty fine to a one-way trip to the executioner’s block.

Flynn had sworn not to deal with anything that dangerous—and had kept his oath as far as he knew. If possible, he wouldn’t touch the goods. His talent was in connecting buyers and sellers for a fee, and most people understood they paid for quality and discretion.

I should have known no reliable merchant delays a meeting twice.

Some people wouldn’t believe that jellyfish stung till they touched one. A few fruitless days without a buyer would do more to convince that guy than a divine revelation. Hopefully, the greedy fool would learn before Flynn left Higharbor. A gold or two wasn’t worth missing Kien’s birthday.

The faint crunching of gravel under a boot echoed from the street behind him, causing Hunch to flare. Flynn Dashed into the alleyway, running through a series of winding turns without looking back.

Keen Perception helped him discern a slew of information from how someone walked. Were they arrogant, confident, or uncertain? He’d need to observe them to form a complete picture, but the sound of a stalker’s steps was pretty distinct. The muffled movement of someone holding back their weight.

If it were an innocuous passerby, Flynn should have heard them coming from a mile away instead of appearing out of nowhere. Moving on gravel was a beginner’s mistake, though Hunch told him otherwise.

Did they do it on purpose to lure me out?

A year ago, he would have turned to face the pursuer, but the scar on his back had stripped him of that arrogance. Since the Republic had covertly doubled its investments in the archipelago, crime became scarcer, and a lot more dangerous.

Even unparalleled talent and greatness had their limits if he ran into a rogue with double his attributes.

As ol’ Nasi says: better to exceed in cautiousness, than to meet a fool’s death.

From the paved roads of the upper city to the maze of meandering dirt alleys of the outer circle, Higharbor held no more secrets than the hilt of his serpent dagger. His job was to get to know people and places. New faces stuck out, he could safely find out who was after him in the morning, if he cashed in a few favors.

A hint of violet shone through the cloudy sky where the Wandering Moon peeked through. He stopped in the nook between two houses to listen. The caw of seagulls, a married couple arguing over who last washed the dishes, the cheery ruckus of a tavern. Five minutes passed without any sign of his pursuer.

Tension faded away. Flynn slipped his knives back into their sheaths under his clothes and headed home. Perhaps the danger wasn’t the stalker but their employer.

He had always stayed away from the Republic’s shady affairs and the true criminals. And despite his greed and oily smile, the merchant hadn’t seemed the type to hire thugs to threaten him. He rarely misjudged humans.

I guess there is a first time for—

The soft drumming just behind the corner sent his instincts flaring. His gut had been right, if the stalker managed to follow him, he must be dangerous.

Why did he alert me again? What game is he playing?

His hands rose to his throwing daggers before Hunch told him that would be a bad idea. Flynn resisted the temptation to exert Mana Sense over his pursuer. If he was forced into a confrontation, the less information he revealed about his skills, the better.

The stranger wasn’t the only one holding back. Flynn darted into a closed alley and kicked off the wall to climb over the roof of a dingy house. Out of sight, he melded into Shadow and raced a meandering path through the fishing district as quickly as he could keep up his stealth.

Damn Nem, I’m going to punch your handsome face next time I see you.

He ran circles around the outer city to the Merry Gale. Lowering his cloak, he wove through the crowd of tipsy customers for a familiar barmaid. Marleen carried a tray of cheap beers with her trademark grin, exotic red hair fell in pretty locks to her bosom.

“Can you keep an eye out for me?”

Suspicion melted into a blooming smile as she recognized him. “Sure. Why don’t you stay for a drink? If anyone’s giving you trouble, the boys can take care of it.” Marleen gestured to a group of rowdy young men, downing ale like water.

She grasped the situation on the fly without judgment or questions. That’s why he had always liked her. For a while, he thought it might be love, but they would end up a disaster living under the same roof. If only he had understood that a little earlier like she did, he could have spared himself a lot of heartache…

Flynn repaid the beaming expression. “Maybe next time. Just Sketch them down and keep away. They might be dangerous.” He slipped towards the backdoor. “Thank you for the help, Marly. I owe you one.”

“You sure do.” She winked. “I’ll add it to your tab.”

For Yatei’s sake, don’t blush!

Flynn pinched himself to free his mind from stupid thoughts. Back into the labyrinthine alleys, he ran half a mile concealed in Shadow before halting to listen. Ten minutes, still nothing.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

What a shitty night.

He should be relaxing on his couch with a full stomach, not perched on a shingle over a stinking alley. Someone was also going to have a bad day when he discovered who was behind this.

Flynn ran and waited twice more to be certain he had shaken off his pursuer. Or was there more than one?

Unless the governor himself was after him, he should be safe. Hunch gave him no warning when he headed back to his neighborhood. Flynn took one last winding path. He would find out who was messing with him, but he always had his best ideas on a full stomach, and he was famished.

The stink of fish and humans waned to the crisp azul trees as he walked into the residential district. When he had bought the house, the area was barely outside the slums. As the city expanded, the neighborhood started to house the booming middle class.

Freshly painted houses sprouted in ranks, noisy families moved in, and the streets got paved with lamplights at each corner. He had thought of moving, but the pedestrian community offered a new kind of anonymity and more pleasant company. Not to mention his building had tripled in value. One of his best investments without even trying.

True genius can’t be hidden…

A kid with one front tooth missing stood in front of him, two more little terrors chuckled behind the brat. Large deadly eyes that could melt any enforcer’s heart pointed up at him. “Can you play with us, Finn? We need someone to be the evil troll.”

Uh, he sure practiced a lot…

Hard work should be rewarded. Flynn crouched on one knee, wishing for nothing more than a meal and his bed. “Do you even know what a troll is?” He only had a vague idea himself, but as an adult, he could feign omniscience.

“Ehm…” Nimmy looked at his little companions for help and scratched his head. “An ugly evil monster. It eats people and it’s big like you.” He raised his arms to show he was perfect for the role.

You little brat.

“C’mon, kids.” A stout woman came to his rescue with a patient smile. “Flynn must have had a long day. Let him rest. It’s time you go to sleep.”

Nimmy turned his pleading eyes at her. “But Ma’—”

“No buts.” Her warmth turned to steel. “It’s already late. And who taught you to make that look? Are these the skills they teach you at school?”

“They told us we must practice every day to raise our levels.” Nimmy articulated with a proud look.