Getting off the palace grounds was easy. Princess Lilian paid a guard there to look the other way, and he did a good job in averting his eyes as Grayson slipped out and onto the busy streets. The Palace Market was bustling that noontime. It would close up because of the afternoon heat, but by that time, Grayson would be long gone. Hopefully.

  Grayson couldn’t run, and even walking quickly strained his heart, and he finally had to pause, in the shadow of a doorway to bend over and grip his chest. He’d done it. He’d escaped with the ruby necklace. Yet, he couldn’t catch his breath, and he grew dizzy. He couldn’t allow himself to lose conscious.

  With the money, he could leave Cradleport and travel the world. Was there magic? Doubtful. Those stories of demons, gods, and angels were for children. He’d grown up an orphan boy in the real world, and he knew magic was a full belly and a safe place to sleep.

  Forcing himself to move, Grayson took back alleys, however dangerous, down to the vast Arena where he knew the streets like the back of his hand. He avoided Nasty Jory’s Inn because everyone who stayed there was either a murder or a thief or both. That meant he had to sneak by the Arena’s slave entrance. That was risky. If Master Kreef saw him, Kreef would make him pay dearly for not being at work. The sadist loved lording over the Arena servants. Life, death, and pain were all the same to Master Kreef.

  Gray didn’t believe gods, but he did believe in luck, which could turn bad at any minute. When it came to luck, there were far more demons than angels at work. He only needed to talk to one person before he left Cradleport forever but that didn’t mean he might not run into any number of souls that might undo him.

  Below the Arena lay the Arena Market, which was Grayson’s second home. From there, it would be a race across the rickety walkways of Seatown, built on the ocean itself, which would eventually lead him to the Far Docks.

  That day, his luck was with him. He managed to avoid Master Kreef, and Gray found Blind John in his normal spot, near the sweet meats, which weren’t meat at all. The smells of the candies, frycake, and fruit pies made Gray salivate. There would be other markets, with other sweet meats, in the town of Scarhaven, in the Crumblelands, which was where Gray was headed.

  Blind John turned to him. He was ancient man,with yellowed eyes, missing a good number of his teeth. He sat perched on probably the most comfortable chair in all of the Nursery Islands, one with a nice cushion, a very nice back, and solid wooden armrests, polished by decades of sweat and rubbing.

  Blind John could afford such comfort as well as paying the candy vendor to stow it away at night before the old man went home to his hidden apartment, somewhere near the Arena. No one knew where it was, not even Gray.

  “Your bag is under my chair, Mister Fade,” the old man said. He then drank some of his sweet charbrew, full of sugar and seacow milk.

  As Gray retrieved his bag, he felt a warm feeling in his otherwise damaged heart. Would anyone ever call him ‘mister’ again once he left? “Would you be kind enough to give me some wisdom, Mister John? What can you tell me about betrayal?”

  It was a game they played—the student asking the teacher for help. In reality, it was a son asking guidance from the only father he had ever known.

  The old man nodded. “Betrayal is a game for the rich to play. The poor need each other. The foolish might stab a friend in the back, but the wise know that they are stronger together.”

  Gray paused. He had his bag, so he could leave whenever he wanted, but the more normal he acted the better. And talking to Blind John was the most normal thing in the world.

  “What about someone who’s poor and wants to be rich, Mister John?”

  The old man gave him a toothless grin, almost like a toddler. “Why would my answer change? Betrayal is a sadness. Then again, some stories are sad. But not ours, Mister Gray. We both are far too smart to be bothered with sad stories.”

  Gray felt a lump in his throat. “What can you tell me about goodbyes, Mister John?”

  That smile never left the old man’s face. “Don’t think all hellos are happy. Don’t think all goodbyes are sad. But a betrayal followed by a goodbye? It’s a full life we lead, my friend. A very full life. Ask me about forgiveness.”

  Gray hardened his weakened heart. “Please, Mister John, can you give me some wisdom concerning forgiveness?”

  “Forgiveness sweetens this bitter, bitter life like sugar sweetens charbrew. Speaking of betrayal, goodbyes, and forgiveness, there’s someone looking for you. She asked about you.”

  Gray felt his insides shrivel. “Who?”

  “She didn’t leave a name, only a smell, probably the most exotic perfume I might have ever smelled. She asked first about a girl, and then about a boy. I didn’t tell her anything, though I was tempted, Mister Gray. I might be old, but I’m not that old, and a fine smelling woman, with such a sexy voice, can even give this old blind man ideas that belong to a much younger man. Not all sex is love. Not all hate is celibate. If I didn’t know better, I would think you are off on an adventure.”

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

  Gray didn’t like the idea of anyone looking for him, and he thought it might be Princess Lilian, but no, she was too careful. She wouldn’t be hanging out in the Arena Market, asking questions about a girl…and a boy.

  Gray came forward and gripped the old man’s hand and arm. “I’m leaving, Mister John. You’ll not see me again. I just wanted…I can’t help but…I need you to know...”

  Blind John patted Gray’s hand. “Let your goodbye be sweet. May you leave all your betrayals behind you. Let us say goodbye and be glad to have known each other. Very few people want wisdom. Even less want self-mastery. You wanted both. Farewell, Mister Gray. I forgive you.”

  Gray took a step back. “For what?”

  “For whatever you’re feeling guilty about. Waste not your life in guilt, my friend. Take guilt as a lesson and learn from it. Avoid shame at all cost, for you are too mighty and wonderful for that.” The old man chuckled. “You might have a bad heart, but you also have a wonderful soul. I wish you all the best.”

  Gray couldn’t help himself. He went and hugged the old man, who smelled like pipe smoke and fried cake. And then, he was off, with his satchel over his shoulder, which contained all of his belongings. It wasn’t much, because in the end, a Games slave who couldn’t wield a sword couldn’t acquire much of anything at all.

  Gray hurried across the swaying bridges and creaking walkways of Seatown, which even despite the breakwater rose and fell with a gentle rocking. Every so often, a hurricane would blow through, ripping Seatown apart, but then the poor who lived there would rebuild, and so it went, season after season. Was their tenacity a kind of magic or was it just desperate stupidity?

  Then, he reached Far Dock, moved past the fisherman, coming in from the morning catch, and the big cargo ships unloading supplies, including big blocks of seacow cheese, which smelled to high heaven. According to legends, the gateway to heaven was the Crown of the World, guarded by angels with pointed ears.

  There was a shanty there, where Dirk Smug did his business of buying, trading, and smuggling. A smuggler named Smug was one of life’s little ironies.

  Gray didn’t like the man, but he preferred Smug to two big palace guards, who emerged from the hut holding Smug by both of his arms. One had a dagger pressed against the smuggler’s side.

  When Smug saw Gray, the rat-faced man pointed. “There! It’s that skinny lad! He’s the one you want. That fucker has a ruby necklace he stole from someone. Search him, find it, and let me go for helping.”

  “Not me,” Gray lied. “I’m just passing through. I’ve never seen that man before in my life.”

  But a third palace guard came up from behind him, with a short sword, freshly polished and gleaming. “Then you wouldn’t mind me looking in that bag.”

  Gray shrugged. He smiled. On the outside, he was all ease and comfort. Inside, however, his bad heart quivered and catching a painless breath seemed impossible. They could search the satchel all they wanted. If they searched his tunic, all would be lost.

  One guard kept a hand on Smug. The other came, his yellow cloak, hanging off his shoulder because of the heat.

  Gray looked the man in the eye. “I can take off my sandals if you want to search my heel. Or would merely looking between my toes suffice?”

  The guard emptied Gray’s satchel onto the dock.

  A crowd had gathered, and in that wretched mob was a strange figure in a wide-brimmed mask above a mesh mask. In her hand was a black cane with a crystal topping the handle. She looked completely out of place among the poor of the Far Docks.

  Gray ignored the mystery and focused on the man who had betrayed him. It was bad timing, the devils of fortune giggling at him.

  “You know, Smug, I was just talking to a friend who said betrayal is a rich man’s game. I guess he was right, since you are rich. He says lying kills the world one breath at a time. Why do you want to see the world die?”

  Smug licked his lips. “I don’t know nothing about that.”

  One of the guards nodded. “You are that slave boy we see in the Arena Market. I know you. Your Blind John’s friend.”

  “Then you know I don’t have a ruby necklace and neither does Blind John.”

  The guard’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll see about that. Smug is not known for his imagination. It’s odd that he would be so very specific.”

  Gray knew something wasn’t right. “You’re not here looking for a necklace.”

  The guard shook his head. “No. Smug swindled the wrong merchant out of five hundred shekels. That’s rich enough for betrayal, I guess. Let’s see if you have his necklace.”

  Gray thought about giving up the necklace because once it was reported missing, the whole town would be searched, starting with Blind John, and the old man might not survive the experience.

  Gray’s thoughts turned bitter. Poor Princess Lilian was convinced there was magic in the world. No, there was only power and wealth, the rich and poor, those who won and those who lost. It was a wretched place, Midmere, while in the middle was far more hell than heaven, no matter where you went.

  Gray tried to bolt, but no, he was too slow, too weak.

  The guard held him, shook him, and Gray’s vision began to blur as he stopped breathing. How could he run away if he couldn’t breathe?

  Blind John was nowhere around to give him any wisdom.

  But the woman in the mask came forward, and she reached out with scaly hand. Scales, on her hand, what was she? There were rumors of dragons who sometimes masqueraded as people, but that was all just nonsense.

  One of the guards was flung off the dock. He struck the water with a splash. Another drew his sword, but it erupted into flames, and he was forced to drop it.

  “What devilry? Is this?” the guard sputtered.

  “The boy is mine.” The woman’s voice came out very crisp and very clear.

  Gray didn’t much like being called a boy. “I might be small, but I’m far from a child. I could show you, but—” Gray fell to his knees. Below him, in the cracks in the board, he could see the water underneath, a very pretty aquamarine. It was pretty. He was fairly certain it would be the last thing he’d ever see in his life.

  Better than the green seawater was the woman’s perfume. Her scent was musky, spicy, completely arousing. Not even the princess smelled so good.

  Grayson Fade slumped forward. He’d done his best. He could die satisfied.

  When he woke up later, he wasn’t in Cradleport. He didn’t know where he was, only that he couldn’t breathe, and he was pretty sure his bad heart had stopped beating completely.