On the south side of Massed Alley, a wide market had sprouted up between the cobblestones and fountains at a spot known as Shoka Square. On this particular day, the stalls had been dragged aside, the wagons withdrawn, and more than twice the bodies packed in. Three of them, standing atop the steps of a trickling stone fountain, were Raya, Benn and Dondar. They listened to the speaker that had drawn the crowds, a man with a shaved head and a slave brand in between his shoulder blades.
“The Mage Kings deserved their downfall long ago,” the man called to his crowd of rebels. “We’ve killed two, without a plan. We should have killed them all. The number of lives they’ve branded, broken, and tread upon outnumber all the people that live in this city overflowing. Now we hear of Elpan—a city of gardens and royal keeps—now little more than Ith’s colony, a place for the wealthy to retire and military to control. And we hear of Ellakar, smashed by a molten mountain conjured out of the earth itself!”
His voice echoed a moment, but as it faded the raptured crowd remained utterly silent. The man’s name was Jadden. He had no last name, nor city of origin. It had all been stripped from him by King Rull. When the King had died, most of his slaves had been claimed by one of the other Mage Kings—there were nine sorcerers surviving, as two had fallen in the riot Raya had witnessed. Jadden had escaped in the wake of it all. He was a freed man now, which was perhaps the most dangerous thing to be in Ith.
“We do not know what to believe of these horrid atrocities beyond the gates of Ith,” Jadden said. “But the fact that this news does not surprise us—it does not surprise me in the least—speaks volumes as to who the Mage Kings have shown themselves to be, time and time again. You see, destruction of the masses, mistreatment of foreigners, abuse of humanity. It’s all right in character, wouldn’t you say?”
A murmur of agreement drifted through the crowd, growing like a wave and cresting with a cheer.
“Brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers,” Jadden said. He raised his arms at his sides and smiled. His teeth were crooked, some broken, but his smile was heartfelt and genuine. “My family has cried for joy at my freedom. But I must—earnestly, I must—weep.” His smile faded. “None of us are free, not while the men and women currently ruling this city rule.”
Angry cries lifted into the air above Shoka Square. Fists were raised. Some people shouted about friends and family they knew who were still enslaved by the Mage Kings.
Jadden lowered his voice. “Free assembly will become increasingly risky,” he told his mob. “You know where to find me if you need to. And you will hear when I speak here again. There are no plans yet, but you will hear them when they emerge. Thank you for your support, kindred of mine. Thank you for your anger.”
His words were followed by applause, and he stepped down from the stage. The crowd began to disperse—Raya and Benn came down the steps from the fountain they had stood upon. The statue of three little sprites holding bowls rose in the centre, each bowl spilling water down into the base of the fountain in a pleasant trickle.
“What do you think?” Dondar asked.
Raya folded her arms. “I want to speak to him. He might know more about the volcano, since most of these people seem to go to him with their complaints.”
Benn nodded. “I’ve got your back.”
“We’ll go together then,” Dondar said.
There were a few others waiting to speak with Jadden, but soon enough, Raya and her friends made it through the throng of townspeople. The man had olive skin and a few bad scars on his sides and shoulders. He smiled to Raya as she approached and began by saying, “Thank you for your support.”
“We’ve come to listen. I’m trying to learn what’s going on in Ith,” Raya said.
The man nodded. “Do you seek persuasion? I can offer a few reasons to struggle against the Mage Kings.” Before Raya could speak, he said, “I could tell you that we must fight them because, despite this brand on my back, humans cannot be owned. I could tell you we must struggle against them because their list of crimes grows ever longer. But to be honest, the reason I fight them is because I hate them. And once you know them, you’ll hate them too.”
“I don’t need persuasion,” Raya said. “The Mage Kings and their slavery should be stopped. But I am here instead for answers.”
“For your own personal quest,” Jadden realized, quietly. “You have good vision, friend.”
“Raya,” she said.
“Raya,” Jadden repeated. “It takes focus and responsibility to seek your own needs in the midst of catastrophe.”
“Not my own needs,” Raya said. “A friend of mine died in the ruins of Ellakar and told me to seek the truth.” She wasn’t sure how much was safe to tell this stranger, but she felt a detail like that could harm no one.
“Honourable,” Jadden said. He smiled, and his earnestness made Raya smile to. He bowed his head. “I forget honour sometimes. I haven’t had the time for it recently. How can I help you, Raya?”
“Do you know anything about Axar?”
“A magician, and a dangerous one. Last year, he went to Elpan, around the time of the revolution. He went with Ith’s armies,” Jadden said.
Raya blinked. It was news to her. “What’s your source?”
“Private,” Jadden said. He ran his hand over his bald scalp. “You see these crowds? They share with me what they know. I cannot name specific citizens or the mob will turn on me also.”
“Axar was in Elpan around the revolution,” Raya said. “And in Ellakar around the volcano.”
“Really?” Jadden asked. “That is news to me. But I won’t ask your source.” He smiled. Though his teeth were crooked and broken from years of slavery, his breath smelled of mint.
Raya and Benn looked at each other. “How do we get to a man like him? Where does he live in the city, and how risky is it to speak with him?” She tugged at her leather tunic; she still looked like a hunter, even in the middle of the city.
“Risky,” Jadden said. “He has a small manor house in the Low Dales, but it is rarely empty. But… the Mage Kings will be holding a funeral in a month. I intend on bringing as many concerned citizens there as possible. All the eyes in Ith will be watching that funeral, and none will be watching Axar’s property. That would be guess, in any case.”
Raya nodded. “That’s good advice,” she said.
“I hope we speak again,” Jadden said. “You have passion for what is right. You are not from Ith, are you?”
“No,” Raya said.
“Vagren?”
“No.”
Jadden smiled. “A village?” he asked, with surprise. “You are a special young woman, Raya. If you resolve your duty of honour or if our focuses should align once more, please do not hesitate to return to me. A woman like you should lead this revolt, not just survive it.”
Raya blinked. “That’s quite the compliment.”
“A deserved one, from my perspective.” Jadden bowed his head and turned to speak with the next person waiting for him, an old man with a cane.
Raya and her friends backed up through Shoka Square. The crowd had mostly dissipated mostly, and a couple cautious guards patrolled through the courtyard as the market began to reassembly. Raya wondered what the Mage Kings knew of gathering such as this: how many in crowd were the eyes and ears of some wealthy and powerful sorcerer? Benn scratched his hair scalp and asked, “What are you thinking next?”
“I think we’ll go to Axar’s house,” Raya said, “just as Jadden suggested.”
It was a good plan, and ensured their safety should another riot occur in the wake of King Rull’s funeral. They’d learn a lot more from that, Raya suspected, than any days spent in the libraries. The funeral was two weeks away, two weeks of living in Freeman’s Bunkhouse and searching for odd jobs to pay whatever portion of their expenses they could. Raya hoped she would meet Jadden again, but the city’s turmoil threatened to drown them all.