A Wicked Thing

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said. “Fairy tales seem full of rubbish to me. Better off being a pirate.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

They fell silent, and the clear, quavering notes of Nettle’s song wrapped around them like smoke. Aurora closed her eyes again, letting the sounds seep into her skin, words of love and hope and a joy so close you could almost taste it.

 

“She’s really something, isn’t she?”

 

Aurora opened her eyes. “It makes me sad.”

 

“It’s a happy song!”

 

“I know,” she said. “It makes me sad all the same.” She ran her fingers through her hair, but Tristan grabbed her hand before she had more than a second to muse.

 

“Well, we’ll have to put an end to that,” he said. “Trudy, mead please!”

 

“You work here too, you know,” Trudy said, but she brought over two mugs of mead anyway. Tristan pressed one into Aurora’s free hand and then raised the other in a toast. They clinked mugs and drank deep. Warmth settled in her belly, and she smiled. Even with all the jokes and lies, she felt part of something here, like she actually belonged.

 

“You know,” she said slowly, “I haven’t seen much of the city. I could use a guide.”

 

“A guide?” he said. “And where would you find someone like that around here?”

 

“Well,” she said. “I was hoping maybe you would show me. Sometime. If you don’t mind.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” he said. He dropped her hand and hurried around the end of the bar. “Let’s go.”

 

“Now?”

 

“No time like the present.”

 

She glanced over at the far side of the room, where Nell, the inn’s owner, was chatting to customers. “Don’t you have to work?” Now that she had what she wanted, she felt a little jolt of fear. She shouldn’t go out alone with this boy, this stranger she knew nothing about. But a guide, a real guide, to show her the city as he saw it, show her the things that a royal escort would never show her . . . she could not say no to that. She could not say no to the way her heart was beating faster, the thrill of doing something that was so certainly forbidden.

 

“They won’t miss me,” he said.

 

“But Trudy—”

 

“She’s joking,” Tristan said. “And besides. I’d much rather spend time with you.” He squeezed her hand, standing impossibly close. “Come on, Mouse. Don’t you want a little adventure?”

 

Five minutes later, they were walking out of the pub, cloaks pulled tight around them.

 

“So,” she whispered. “Where first?”

 

“I know just the place. Follow me.”

 

He led her along the cobbles. A few people shouted greetings and comments at him as they passed, and he laughed and shouted back.

 

“Who’s the girl?” one of them asked, as they turned onto another street.

 

“She’s new in town,” Tristan said. “I’m just showing her around.”

 

“I’m sure you are, Tristan,” the man said, and Tristan waved at him before striding on. He turned down a narrow path, and soon they were hurrying away from the crowds. The streets tumbled over one another, forming a crisscrossing, twisting, looping labyrinth that made Aurora’s head spin. Gradually, the cobblestones faded away to beaten earth. Voices leaked through the gaps in the walls, but soon there were no lights at all, not even the glow of a candle through an open window, nothing to show the way except the gleam of the moon. Aurora reached out and clutched the back of Tristan’s cloak, bunching the rough cloth between her fingers. “Don’t worry, little Mouse. I won’t lose you.”

 

“Don’t you dare.”

 

His hand found hers. “Come on,” he said. “We’re nearly there.”

 

The city walls loomed ahead. Aurora stared at them, watching the lights that flickered above the stone. She pulled her head back farther, trying to see the sky beyond, and almost tripped over a girl who was huddled against one of the buildings. Aurora could see the hollow shadows of her face in the moonlight. The girl looked up at Aurora reproachfully, but she did not even blink as Aurora rambled her apologies.

 

“Who was that?” Aurora asked as they moved away. “Why was she sitting out here in the dark?”

 

“Oh, nobody,” Tristan said. “They built the city walls decades ago to keep the riffraff out, but, much to the king’s surprise, they keep existing! So they sweep them out to the north edge here. Don’t want them dirtying up the doorsteps of the good part of the city, now, do they?”

 

“Why do they come here?” Aurora asked. “If they’re mistreated, then why—”

 

Tristan scowled, and when he spoke, he sounded almost angry. “Where else are they supposed to go? People think it’s safer to live near the king. Invading armies don’t tend to burn your house if you live here. Of course, rioters can do the job just as well, and these people don’t exactly have houses to destroy. But even picking off the streets, there might well be more food here than outside the walls.”

 

Aurora glanced back. The girl was already out of sight, but as they continued through the streets, she saw more faces, more shapes in the dark. One alley held so many people that they formed a single mass in the shadows. Aurora could only tell where one person ended and the next began by the way they shifted as they spoke.

 

“Someone should do something about this,” she said. “Help them.”

 

“But no one will.” Tristan shrugged, but there was an edge to his voice. “Which part of the city did you say you live in now, Mouse?”

 

“Not near here.”

 

“Shame,” Tristan said. “It’s such a lovely place.”

 

They continued to move closer to the walls, weaving around wooden buildings that slumped together as though unable to stand up unaided. “Where exactly are we going?” Aurora asked as they turned into another raggedy alleyway.

 

“There’s a lot to hate about this place,” Tristan said. “So, before it gets to you, I thought I’d show you why it’s worth staying.” He stopped in front of a low, crooked house, on a street so dark that she could barely make out the shape of him beside her. The quiet hum of voices filled the air. “Now this,” he said, “is the hard part. You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

 

She thought of her tower, of leaning out of the window, high above the world. “No,” she said.

 

“Good. Watch this.” With a scrape and a spring, he was gone, vaulting up into the air with the grace of a cat. A moment later, his face peered over the edge of the roof.

 

“Reach up and jump,” he said.

 

She raised her hands and groped the air above her. The edge of the roof was barely in reach, slightly sharp against the inside of her knuckles. She strained onto her tiptoes, and her fingers scratched across the roof tiles, digging into one of the seams. She jumped. Her feet scraped the wall, struggling for a grip on the stone, and her arms ached from the effort. One hand slipped, and Tristan gripped it at the wrist, pulling her up and over.

 

“Okay?”

 

Aurora laughed. Adrenaline chased through her. “I’m on the roof,” she said. She was only a few feet off the ground, but she felt tall, impossible, powerful.

 

“I know,” Tristan said. She could hear the amusement in his voice. “This way.” They scrambled over the tiles, climbing higher and higher still. The buildings formed a giant’s staircase, each roof in reach with a jump, a grab, and a jab of fear. Tristan crouched as he walked, slow and steady, each step precise. Aurora stuck close behind him, following his movements, feeling her way with the soles of her feet.

 

“Here should do it,” he said. They stood on a small square roof, sloping down from a point in the center. “You can get around half the city this way, but this is the best spot. And I’d hate to take you the dangerous way. Little mouse like you might fall to her death.”

 

“I’d hold my own.”

 

“I don’t doubt it.” He grabbed Aurora’s hand and sat down, pulling her with him.

 

She yelped. They were very far off the ground. “Tristan! Careful.”

 

“I won’t drop you. Look.” And he stretched their arms outward, skin meeting skin, their hands pointing far into the city.

 

Lights. Hundreds and hundreds of lights, so many that the city glowed, casting glimmer and shadow over sloping roofs and weaving roads. Up ahead, frozen in the night, was the castle. The base of it glowed too, but the lights faded as it stretched upward, until finally, at the very top, Aurora’s own tower stood, so dim that it seemed to melt into the sky. The moon loomed large overhead.

 

“Pretty good, huh?”

 

“It’s beautiful.” She slid her legs down the roof until they were hanging over the edge, swinging in the chilly night air. She still clutched Tristan’s hand in her own. His heartbeat brushed against her skin.

 

“When I first moved to Petrichor, I missed everything.” His fingers tightened around hers. “My home. My family. I’d never been to the city before, didn’t even know Trudy, and I was going crazy with how loud and busy and insane it all was. So I started climbing on the roofs. It’s a good place to think. Up here, the city doesn’t seem so bad, you know?”

 

The wind caught Aurora’s hair. It tickled her cheeks and tangled in her eyelashes. “Why did you leave home?”

 

He sighed and let go of her hand. Her fingers felt cold in his absence. “Why did you?”

 

She let her hand fall to her side and gripped the edge of the roof. “I didn’t choose to.”

 

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