The Blood Sigil (The Sigilord Chronicles Book 2) (21 page)

The two mercenaries climbed up out of their boat and casually made their way off the pier. Cailix and Colin bumped their boat against one of the docking posts only a moment later.

"Go go go," Cailix urged, still whispering.

Colin obeyed and hopped out of their canoe as quickly as he could. They snaked their way through the crowds and emerged from the throng at the end of the pier.

"Which way?" Colin asked, looking around.

Cailix scanned the boardwalk that ran the length of the harbor. On a warm summer day, she would have loved to spend hours exploring the shops and vendors and even the strange buildings, but today she had more pressing business. Finally her eyes settled on two men who seemed to be trying too hard to appear casual and blend in.

Some mercenaries
, she thought.
They always try too hard
,
and that's always what gives them away.

"There." She pointed the men out.

She broke into a brisk walk, heading in their direction with Colin in tow.

They kept their distance as they followed the men away from the port. They walked down cobblestoned streets that ran parallel to canals filled with long, skinny boats. Eventually the mercenaries turned away from the canal onto a smaller, narrow road.

Cailix held Colin back. Peeking around the corner, she waited until the men made another turn back onto a wider, busier street.

"Hurry," she whispered, and they ran down the narrow street, hoping to catch sight of the men again before they made another turn and disappeared into the enormous city. She was thankful for the break in the snow; otherwise they could have easily lost sight of their targets.

"There are so many people," Colin said, mouth agape. "You could fit the entire harvest festival in one little corner of this street."

They pressed through the crowd, bouncing and shoving against the current of people, all intent on being somewhere else and barely paying attention to the ground beneath their feet. As Cailix moved further upstream through the crowd, the shops and markets gave way on one side to a wide, open sand-covered courtyard. A large group of boys and girls stood clustered in the center.

She found herself swallowed in a swarm of people. They shoved and bumped, pushing on through as though she were hardly there; at least until one person stopped just long enough to look down at her and shove her to the side.

"Out of my way, child," the rude man said. "Go back to your game."

Cailix had no idea what he was talking about, but found herself pushed to the side of the street, unable to navigate the crowd. Standing on the tips of her toes, she got a good look up the road just in time to see the two mercenaries duck into a pub. She couldn't see the name, but the sign hanging over the door bore the image of a bowl of stew, with wavy lines of artistic steam carved into the wood above.

Worry set in when she looked around and couldn't find Colin. He must have been carried away by the tidal current of the crowd. The poor farm boy had probably never seen this many people in his entire life.

"You okay?" Colin asked from behind her.

Cailix whirled to face him. She was about to ask him where he had gone when she heard a boy shouting from the courtyard.

"Hey, you two," the boy called.
 

Cailix turned toward him.

"Yeah, you. We're short two players," he shouted, waving his hands. "Get in here."

Cailix searched for a way to get to the pub. She had no time for games. A few of the boys and girls who had been gathered in the center of the sandy courtyard ran over to meet them at the edge of the street.

"Come on," said the first boy to meet them. He stood about the same height as Colin, but with a much more slender build. Unkempt blond hair hung over his face far enough so he constantly shook it away from his eyes.

Despite the cold air and light flurry, he wore just a shirt and pants. "We need more players. We can't have a game if you don't join us."

"What are you playing?" Colin asked eagerly, his face brightening.

"Feeder, of course," replied the boy. "What else would we be playing?"

Cailix exchanged a look with Colin.

"We're in the middle of something and we don't have time to play," said Cailix, already returning her attention to the front door of the soup place.

"Oh, come on, don't let us down," the boy pleaded. "If we can't get another game going everybody will go home and the day will be ruined. You don't want to ruin our entire day, do you? Can you really live with that on your conscience? My name's Kovil, by the way."

"Colin," Colin said, shaking the boy's hand. Cailix shot him an angry glance.

Stupid farm boy
, she thought, gritting her teeth.

"We have to go," Cailix said and turned to leave.

Colin caught up to her and whispered, "They're going to be in that pub for a while. Why can't we stay out here and play?"

Cailix clenched her fists, but before she could scold him she had another coughing fit. Once she'd regained her composure, she chided, "We can't let them out of our sight—not if we want to find Anderis. We don't have time to
play."

"When was the last time you played a game? Any game?" Colin asked.

"I do not play," Cailix said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Maybe you should," he said. "Come on, Cailix. For once in your life, do something because it's fun and not because you need to do it to survive. There's more to life than just survival."

Cailix glanced over at the group of children who had gathered near the edge of the courtyard. They were all smiling, and not because they were about to lie or deceive her, but because they were enjoying themselves. They seemed happy.
 

"One game," Cailix said. "But then we go to the pub."

"Will you be all right with your cough?" Colin asked.

"I'm fine," she lied.

"We're in!" Colin shouted, returning to the group, all of whom cheered and clapped at the news.

"What are the rules of this feeder game?" Cailix asked.

Kovil laughed so hard he nearly fell over. "What kind of kid doesn't know how to play Dragon Feeder?"

Cailix narrowed her eyes and snarled, "This kind."

Kovil took a step back, appraising Cailix from head to toe.

"The rules are simple," he said. "There are two dragons, one at each end of the field. In the arena games they get fancy carved dragon heads, but we just use fishing nets strung up between posts. You have to kick the ball into the dragon's mouth, and the other team has to stop you. The black ball is worth two points; reds are one. When the small hourglass runs out the dragon spits the balls back out, so the dragon mouths get emptied. When the big hourglass empties, whoever has the most balls in the other team's dragon mouth wins."

"That's it?" Colin asked.

Kovil nodded. "Oh, and you can't use your hands. Only the flames can. But other than that, do whatever you need to stop the enemy from reaching your dragon's mouth."

"Flames?" Cailix asked, trying to take it all in.
 

"That's what we call the people who protect the dragon's mouth. Each team has a flame; two wings who play up and down the sides; two front claws who play up front; two rear claws who stay in back; plus a tail who can't go farther than the eye. Then each team has a dragon's eye, and they start in the middle and can move anywhere on the field."

Why should a game have so many rules? Something this complicated can't possibly be fun. The monks didn't even have this many rules for organizing their precious libraries.

"Ready? Colin's on my team," Kovil said, then turned to Cailix. "And you're on Bertrand's team. I didn't get your name."

"And you will not," Cailix replied simply. She didn't know these people or what allegiances they had. For all she knew, one of them could be a spy working for Anderis. Giving out her real name could make her vulnerable.

Kovil chuckled and threw up his hands. "Have it your way, as long as we get to play another match before dusk."

Kovil made his way to the center of the courtyard, and Cailix and Colin followed.
 

"Let's do this. Red is on Bertrand's team. She'll be a wing. Colin, you'll stay behind me as my tail."

Red?
she thought.
What kind of a foolish nickname is that?

Everyone fanned out, taking up their positions on the field. Cailix took a moment to study the kids, most of whom were around her age or a little younger, though Kovil seemed older. All the kids wore the tattered, dirty clothes of children of poor parents. She hadn't noticed it before, but as Cailix looked around at the neighborhood again, she became keenly aware that this was a very poor, rundown area of the city. The pub, which she could thankfully monitor from her spot on the field, was the most upscale establishment in the neighborhood.

She took up her position opposite the wing from Kovil's team as Kovil and Bertrand faced off in the center of the field. Bertrand was a heavyset, black-haired boy who had a big scar on his cheek. Cailix couldn't help but notice that he wore one boot and one shoe, probably unable to afford a matching pair.

"Go!" shouted one of the boys on the sideline. Kovil and Bertrand scuffled over the black ball, but Bertrand came away with it and ran forward, nudging the ball ahead as he charged.
 

This is ridiculous,
Cailix thought.
I have no idea what to do, and the mercenaries could be fleeing out a back door of the pub and I'll miss it.

She ran forward, staying parallel with Bertrand. He gave her a nod, then kicked the ball to her. She stopped it, then turned toward the net, suddenly exhilarated. Her heart raced, and she wondered what it would be like to get a goal.

Before she could do anything with the ball, someone from Kovil's team raced up alongside her, put his leg behind her feet, and shoved her onto her back. She hit the ground hard in a puff of dust. She watched, upside down, as her opponent ran away with the ball.

Cailix rolled to her feet, her fists clenched.
He'll regret that
, she thought. She could feel the blood pulsing in the boy's veins. There were a hundred different things she could do to him, the hard part was deciding the right punishment to fit his crime.

"Don't do it," Colin said, running up to her. "It's a game. You can't kill the players on the other team."

She glared at him, disappointed. "Fine," she said, brushing the dust off her clothes and running after the ball.

She played for a long time, her face hot and sweaty despite the cold. She ran up and down the field, over and over again. Her opponents tried to trip her, but she was ready for them each time. She taught each of them a lesson. Eventually, once she got the ball they gave her a wide berth, only trying to steal the ball when it got away from her.

Despite not scoring a goal once, and spending as much time face-down in the sand as she did running, she found herself smiling and even laughing, if no one was looking. It made no sense. The game had absolutely no value; it did nothing to give her power or to give her an advantage over her opponents. The game didn't help anyone survive. But she enjoyed it.

Until she started coughing.
 

She was making her way toward the dragon with a red ball, with her team up by three points and only seconds away from winning the match, when her chest tightened. Her throat felt cold and dry. She sucked in and puffed out, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't draw enough breath.

It was like drowning without water.

She stumbled, and a girl named Elise stole the ball, giggling as she raced downfield.
 

Cailix bent over and coughed, hands on her knees as she wheezed and gasped between coughing spasms. She heard the boy on the sideline shout that the match was over—her team had won, though she hadn't really contributed much to the victory.

She studied the sand between coughs, glancing past the bloodstone necklace dangling from her neck, its once blood-red color now black as night. She noticed something on the ground that did not belong.
 

That's blood in the sand
.

She coughed again and watched droplets of blood, her blood, hit the sand as she coughed.

There was something else wrong too. She looked at the blood and felt it; called to it. It didn't respond to her the way blood ought to respond. It was wrong,
tainted
somehow, as though something had infected it.

I don't have a cold
, she realized.
It's my blood. My blood is sick.

With great effort she stood up and walked over to the sideline to retrieve her cloak. Colin appeared out of nowhere, laughing and joking with his team despite their loss. He might have been simple, and nothing more than a farm boy, but he was able to make friends and socialize as easily as she could wield blood magic. She would never be able to relate to people the way he could. Cailix wrapped herself in the cloak and pulled the hood down, wishing for the comfort of a warm bed and an even warmer cup of soup.

She regarded the group of kids, all laughing and having a great time.
Why is the losing team celebrating?
she wondered.
They should be mourning their loss and planning a comeback strategy.
Her eyes wandered from the kids to the opposite sideline, where makeshift benches had been set up to allow people to sit and watch the games.

She focused on one person in particular, a tall man who had just risen from the bench and was casually making his way toward an open door in an adjacent building. Even with his hood drawn, she could see his white hair. But even if she hadn't seen his hair, she would have known who it was. The way the man walked, the way he carried himself; he might as well have been carrying a sign with his name on it.

"What are you staring at?" Colin asked, having finally broken free of the revelry of all of his new friends.

Cailix watched the man disappear into the building on the other side of the courtyard. "Anderis."

Chapter Fourteen