We climbed the rooftops like two shadows under the orange evening sky. The woman made no sound as she walked on the tiles, as if she were floating instead of stepping on. I, on the other hand, was a step behind, praying not to make anything creak. When we reached the edge, we crouched looking at the building: the Azareth Trading House.
"The entrance is not the front door, in case you were wondering," she whispered, as she extended her arm toward a circular skylight covered in dark glass engraved with protective glyphs.
"Is that a glyph of detection?" I asked, vaguely remembering something from the books in my village.
"Very well, apprentice thief. Yes. "And he's not the only one," he replied, unrolling a small scroll that glittered with silver runes. This site is full of arcane traps. No cameras or thermal sensors like in your world. Here we have invisible magic lasers: once you come across one, they freeze you dry, until the guards arrive and drag you away as if you were a piece of old meat.
"Great," I murmured. Frozen as if it were salmon.
"Silence." Watch and learn," he said.
He placed both hands in front of the glass and muttered a few words in a language that sounded like a whisper among thunder. Soft, pulsating waves began to expand from his fingers, like circles of energy moving through the air. When they touched the crystal, the runes went out like tired fireflies, and a slight click confirmed the deactivation.
"Harmonic Phase Shift Spell," he said, almost as if he were teaching me a cooking recipe. It destabilizes the rhythm of the glyphs for a couple of minutes. Enough time.
With enviable agility, he opened the skylight and slid inside. I followed her, not so elegant, but without falling.
The interior was dark, lit only by floating lanterns of bluish light. We go down a rope to an elevated platform. From there you could see the shelves full of scrolls, crystals, small chests closed with elemental magic and a black obsidian urn, placed on a pedestal with multiple arcane circles rotating around it.
"There it is," she said, pointing to the urn. Inside are at least three pure, medium-sized mana crystals. The type of object that a commercial house would be willing to kill for.
"And how are we going to get through the circles of security?" I asked, sweat running down my neck.
She winked at me, or so I think, because her hood wouldn't let me see.
"Trust the old woman." He knelt down, spread a small black stone on the ground, and tapped it with his finger. An expanded wave similar to the previous one began to bounce between the arcane circles, fine-tuning its rhythm.
"Ancient magic is based on rhythm and resonance," he whispered. If you can get the spell to hear the same song... stop seeing us as enemies.
One by one, the circles began to slow down... until they were suspended as if time had stopped. We took advantage of the gap. She broke the protective seal and opened the urn. The crystals shone with an almost vivid glow, as if they contained a beating heart. Each one the size of a fist, a deep blue with sparkling silver streaks.
"One for me." "One for you," he said, handing me one. And one to sell later.
"Is this good for eating?" I asked, unable to help but smile.
"This is enough to buy half an inn and have them cook for you for a whole week.
It took us no more than three minutes to get out through the back passage. The spell was starting to dissipate and we didn't want to be there when the magic circles were activated again. Once outside, in the shadows of the alleys, I stopped.
"I want to go back to Nimue," I said, in a serious tone. I can't leave her alone.
The woman stared at me for a second, as if measuring my request. Then he nodded.
"Good. But the glass goes in the inside pocket. If we get caught with this, neither your screams nor mine will reach the court."
We returned by an alternate path, jumping over a couple of walls and crossing through silent alleys until we reached the corner where I had left Nimue.
She was exactly as I left her: curled up under the canvas, her head bowed and her strands of white hair sticking out of the edge, but she was awake, very awake I would say.
Hearing the footsteps approaching, Nimue's eyes slammed open, still wrapped in the blanket like a shield. Her gaze stared directly at me, completely ignoring the woman who was with me. he exclaimed, in a curt voice. Do you think it's nice to leave me helpless here in an alley in a city?
"Nimue..." I tried to calm her down, but she interrupted me: "Shut up! Don't talk to me!
The woman, who had been silent until then, stepped forward, showing a calm but firm smile. This alley is dangerous for anyone. I have a safe place where you can spend the night.
I glanced at you out of the corner of my eye, looking for some sign of approval, and nodding, I replied, "Trust her, Nimue. He doesn't know who you are, he just wants to help us. Her lair is protected by spells and traps.
Nimue pursed her lips, still suspicious, but finally nodded. But don't expect me to relax," she murmured, still wrapped in the blanket.
The woman smiled with some complicity. "I don't mean to. Only to offer you shelter.
We went deeper and deeper into the "Dark World" of the city, that area hidden behind worn facades and alleys that seemed to breathe shadows. We arrived at a square where several doors, old but sturdy, marked the entrance to shelters and lairs. In one corner, a group of people smoked strange cigarettes that did not give off ordinary smoke: they were thin glass rods that released particles of dancing light, like small trapped fireflies, and the smell was a sweet and spicy mixture, difficult to describe but clearly magical. Meanwhile, others entertained themselves by playing a game similar to cards, but with small carved stones that changed color according to the emotions of the person holding them. The looks of some were hard, almost judgmental, as if they were evaluating each newcomer with silent scrutiny.
As we passed through a door before reaching the one that awaited us, a group of sturdy men with boar horns—a trait that marked their clan and their strength in the "underworld"—played that same game, letting out crude laughter while smoking those rods of light. Noticing our presence, their eyes were fixed on Nimue, and one of them, with a lascivious gleam in his eye, gave her a smile full of intention. He growled, letting out a whiff of bright light into the air. It seems that today luck brings us company.
Nimue tensed her body, looking away in contempt, but her gesture did not go unnoticed. The men laughed again, even more daring, fiddling with the changing stones.
Nimue squeezed to me, feeling the tension in the air grow rapidly. His body trembled, not exactly from fear, but from that dangerous mixture of discomfort, contained rage and distrust. I looked at the woman guiding us, hoping she knew how to handle the situation before it escalated to something much worse.
"You'd better go about your business," she said, her voice dry and authoritative.
"Come on, don't be like that, bunny," replied one of the men with boar horns, letting out a grotesque laugh that joined the laughter of his companions.
The woman let out a long sigh, not of frustration, but of resignation. He turned away from the door we were heading for and walked slowly toward the table where they were playing cards, dodging empty bottles and smoking braziers with an elegance that seemed to defy the seediness of the place.
"If I remember correctly..." "I won the bet yesterday, Ruffian," he said, banging the table and scattering the cards as if they were leaves shaken by the wind.
The laughter died instantly.
Rufián stopped smiling. His companions looked down, and the atmosphere became thick as tar smoke. The tension changed owners. It was no longer ours... it was his.
"I still think you cheated," the boar growled. He was not corpulent, rather he looked like someone who had been passed over by life too many times. He had poorly healed scars that crossed his face and forearms, as if he had survived more fights than he could count... or remember.
"Stop deceiving yourself, handsome, and learn to lose with dignity," the woman replied with a cheeky smile. A mocking spark ignited in his eyes.
The man frowned angrily. With a slap of his hand he pushed the cards aside and stood up suddenly, overturning part of the table. The tension that was felt before was a game compared to what was breathed now.
"You're a lying slut!" He cried, and without hesitation, he grabbed her by the neck with a hand trembling with anger.
"Hey! I exclaimed, taking a step forward.
But she didn't seem surprised. Nor scared. His breathing was contained, measured. He closed his eyes for just a second... and then he did.
A silver flash enveloped his hands, barely visible, and a subtle magical wave expanded from his body, vibrating like a contained heartbeat. The air became dense. The crystals of the magic lamps flickered. The group of men tensed.
Rufián tried to push harder... but he couldn't. His muscles stopped responding to him. A kind of paralysis took hold of him and his fingers opened by inertia, freeing the woman as if something invisible was pushing him back.
She shook her neck and smoothed her clothes with all the calmness in the world.
"Next time you touch me, boar, I'll cut off your hands and use them to play Arcane Dominion," he said quietly, and turned to us as if nothing had happened.
Rufián's companions remained frozen. Not by magic. Because of fear.
The woman approached the door again. This time he didn't stop, he simply rested a hand on the dark iron-reinforced wooden surface, muttered something in a language I didn't understand, and with a barely audible click, the magic lock unraveled. He opened the sheet slowly.
"Go ahead." Come in, don't be afraid," he said with a half-smile, moving away to make room for us.
Nimue didn't wait half a second. As if a force was pushing her, she slipped inside with an inhuman, almost feline speed, crossing the threshold with long, determined steps. His figure disappeared into the shadows of the interior as if he had lived there all his life.
The woman and I looked at each other, just as bewildered.
She let out a little nasal laugh, amused.
"Is it always like this?"
"No, not really," I replied, still surprised by Nimue's reaction.
The woman's laughter died away instantly, like a windswept candle. His expression hardened, serious again, almost distant. He looked at me with an intensity that I could not read.
"Then you'd better watch how she changes when she's nervous," he said finally, and walked in after Nimue without waiting for an answer.
I followed her, closing the door behind me. A faint magical whisper sealed the inside with a protection spell.