I felt Dartix's little shoulder slip under my armpit as my legs disappeared. I swung my head around; I could still barely see, but he was there. I was cold, slimy and sweating.
"Dor? Dor! ...Damn damn damn."
I lurched.
"Wait. Wait right here." He was easing me to the ground. I was sitting in garbage.
Boy. Everything stank.
My eyes opened. I blinked color back into my vision. I recalled that I hadn't really eaten since the day before, shaking my arms. The smells assaulting me down here were waking me up, but not helping my instinct to swoon in the least.
"What's the problem?" hissed a large man in a cloak. I looked at him lazily, wondering if he was going to be a problem, before realizing that Dartix was behind him.
"She fainted. I told her... anyway, she fainted!"
"Shut up, Boy," the stranger said.
"I'll be fine," I blurted, "I just, I'm tired and hungry and the sun must be getting to me." Both Dartix and the stranger looked around; the alley was pretty much in complete shade. Okay -- so big news affects me. Even badasses faint sometimes. Shut up.
The stranger unhooked his cloak; he was sort of handsome close up, but blurry -- and probably a foreigner, and wrapped it around me. Suddenly he had picked me up, but Dartix pulled on his arm. "No, no, no, Seamus. It'll cause too much attention."
"She can't walk," he replied.
"Yes I can," I said, trying to push out of his grasp. He fought me though --
"Don't," he growled, before I finally got to my feet. ...And almost fell into more garbage. He put out an arm to help me though, and I took it.
"I have to walk. Just help me," I said.
"She needs food," Dartix said, taking my other arm. "And Saymar can't see her."
"Okay!" said the stranger, AKA Seamus, annoyed.
After trekking down the road the ways with the help of Dartix and Seamus, we skirted down an alley and another, where we weren't likely to be seen but more than likely to get food. Dartix's mother had an alehouse out here, not very popular though. The food was expensive and the beer was not tasty. She was ugly and her waitresses were mean. I had no idea how a cute young thing like Dartix had managed to pop out of her; I always smiled trying to imagine that maybe his mother had been with a very handsome man, somehow. Of course, it was impossible to know. Apparently Dartix's dad had been a palace cook once upon a time, but several years after my parents were killed, he met his own end trying to find work out in the islands off the coast of Handrasi. Dartix blamed his father's death on his not being a palace cook, so of course, Dartix was for the resistance. Sometimes I would sit and try to remember the faces of the palace cooks... but I could barely remember the faces of my own family.
It then occurred that Dartix really wasn't much of a boy anymore. He had to be fourteen now. So skinny. I didn't remember kids being that skinny when I was his age. Of course, I only had myself and Eric to really compare him with.
I wouldn't live to have children of my own.
I was the last of my line, and it would die with me.
Dartix interrupted my thoughts with a large tankard of nasty smelling ale. "Oh Dartix!" I said, before putting my hand to my mouth.
"Food's coming up, Dor," he said, eyes wide, before scurrying off.
"It can't be that bad," Seamus said, pulling the tankard away from me and taking a gulp. He looked like he was going to turn green. "Okay. You were right."
I nodded back feebly, and leaned back. The one and only good thing about this place was the padded booth seats. I wanted to roll up in mine and pass out.
"You look terrible," Seamus said. "What happened to you?"
"No, no, no," Dartix said, "You're not authorized to talk to Dor, Seamus. No one but me and Bolthos from now on."
"I just asked her how she was, Dartix," Seamus said.
"I heard you ask her 'what happened,' Seamus. That's not, 'how are you?'" Dartix said.
I closed my eyes and listened to them argue until there was the distinct clang of full dishes hitting the table. I looked down at the plates. Oh, thank Somebody! Food. Breakfast food, like the palace cooks used to make. Why I could remember food and not faces... well, one more strike against me -- I suppose I was always destined to be a horrible person.
"It's on the house, Dor," Dartix said proudly, before adding, "Not for you though, Seamus. You've got to pay." Off Seamus's look, Dartix said, "You're new to the Resistance, Seamus. You don't eat for free for at least... six more months."
"You're making that up," Seamus said.
Dartix just smiled roguishly and began digging into his own plate.
I ate and ate and ate some more. It was soothing, the food. Everything seemed less horrible, and I could feel that I was beginning to think more clearly.
Of course there was no such thing as the Hand.
Eric had worked alone.
I had to figure out what the plan for Gravlor's Peak was.
Then return to Eric and figure out... his plan... sometime in the next two weeks we'd be spending in bed. Oh geez... How was I going to...?
I shoveled more food in my mouth.
"You were hungry," Seamus said.
I began to nod when the main door to the establishment swung open. The few others in the room looked up; not in a curious way, but in a ready way. Shit.
"Dartix," I said. He frowned, motioning me to hide under the table.
I slid under, already knowing that it was likely fruitless. After a few steps, I knew who was coming through the door.
Saymar.
I watched his boots approach the table.
"Dartix," he said, in a friendly way. "Seamus..." he added, pausing... I closed my eyes. Of course, he would be looking at my empty plate right about now.
"We're waiting for Hogarth!" blurted Dartix.
"Looks like you couldn't wait for Hogarth," Saymar said. He put a hand on the table, and I watched his knees begin to bend.
I leapt up, knocking the table off its feet and into Saymar. Surprised, and half-covered in food, he stepped back long enough for me to grab Dartix and press a dagger to his chest. Granted, it looked like a bluff at that angle, but that's what it was.
