The Missing Traveller
The Smith

He was a gaunt man, so tall he loomed over the lowered table. His skin was an unhealthy shade of white, and his jet black hair slumped at his shoulders. He looked up at the three of them with wide and unblinking dark eyes.

“Ethan Platt?” He had a quiet and musing sort of voice.

Ethan nodded. “Are you The Smith?”

The man stared at him for a moment, before he turned to the table and poured a cup of tea. “Yes. Please refer to me as Mister Black in the future.” He set the teapot down and inclined his head in their direction. “Take a seat.”

Alister and Ethan exchanged bewildered glances. This is the best forger in Bastium? He looks like he’s never been outside. The Smith sipped on his tea and stared at the seats opposite him until the three of them sat. The table’s array of biscuits, bread, and fruit went untouched. Mirielle arched an eyebrow at The Smith once, but her eyes were unfocused for the most part and her fingers spun around her bracelet.

As soon as they sat, The Smith spoke again.

“What services of mine do you require?”

Ethan raised his eyebrows. “Straight to the point, then? Alright. We need entrance to Deemstun for Ali, here. Seal Card with Deemstun’s mark, proof of identification or family members, transport…whatever’s needed to get into the city.” He picked up the teapot and poured tea in the three empty cups. Alister passed one to a distant Mirielle, and sipped on his own. It was a soft but tangy blend of herbs.

If The Smith was surprised or interested in their affairs, he didn’t show it on his unchanging, unblinking face. “Passage into Deemstun is strict at the present. It will involve a Seal Card with Deemstun’s Seal, as you said. This I am able to procure for you. Additionally, you’ll require a correspondent in Deemstun to act as your family member, with evidence of your relations. This is simpler than arranging a business passage.” As he spoke in the same low tone, barely pausing between sentences, The Smith reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of square cards. “Having dealt with the forgery of Seals for a number of years, I can also arrange this correspondent for you.” He placed one of the cards in front of them. Alister and Ethan leaned forward to inspect the photograph of a sullen girl with spiky black hair, no older than fifteen years old. “You will call her Lidia Benlin. She’s your cousin.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “She’s real young. Are you sure she can do it?”

The Smith black eyes somehow darkened, but his voice didn’t change. “She has been my correspondent in Deemstun for many years, and hasn’t once been under suspicion. She’s also equipped to disguise herself to appear older.” He set down an empty teacup and looked at Alister as he spoke. “Lidia will sign the declaration form, as will you. You are called Ali, short for Alister?” Barely pausing for Alister’s confused nod, he went on. “Then you’ll use the name Alexander Benlin. I will organise your travel to Deemstun, and when you arrive at the gates, Lidia will meet you there and take you into the city. As for the finer details, I will give them to you with the papers.”

Alister’s heart pounded. After all this time in Bastium, finally he had a way into Deemstun. He was one step closer to replaceing Lark. “Thank you, Mister Black.”

“I am only doing my job. These services will take ten days. I require some amount of payment now, but most of my clients prefer to pay the rest when I am finished. For everything you asked for, it will be six marks and a fifth.”

Alister’s jaw dropped. “Six?”

Ethan elbowed him in the side. “We knew it would be expensive, and this is the best forgery you’ll replace.”

Alister turned to catch Mirielle’s attention, and was surprised to replace her eyes wide and fixed on The Smith.

Mirielle’s voice was steady. “How much more would it cost for an additional Seal Card to go to Deemstun?” Alister’s eyebrows shot up.

“Mirielle, what’re you doin’?” Ethan glanced at The Smith, who stared at the exchange without interrupting.

She glared at him and spoke to Alister. “Is it alright if I accompany you to Deemstun?”

Alister blinked. “But, I thought you…I mean…what?”

Her words rushed out. “I’ve no reason to stay here any longer…with no home or family, what’s the point? I can deal with a few heights.” She winced at the mention of her fear, but hurried on. “After all, I want to help Jondar as much as I can. What better way to do that than to come with you?”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “This is mighty ridiculous; can we even afford that?”

The three of them paused for a second, and turned to The Smith, who was as stoic as ever.

“If you travel together, you won’t need another correspondent. For the Card and Seal, it will be an additional two marks and four fifths. Nine marks in total. Your name is Mirielle? You will be Mirna Benlin. Do we have a deal?”

Ethan whirled his head around to Mirielle and Alister, his eyes wide and mouth open in protest.

“Is one mark and three fifths enough for the initial payment?” Mirielle asked before Ethan could speak, undeterred. Alister’s palms moistened from even discussing so much coin.

The Smith agreed. Mirielle emptied her satchel and passed its contents to the forger. Like Mirielle, he didn’t even blink at the amount of coin exchanged. Then again, Alister thought, The Smith never blinks.

“We’ll meet at this teahouse in six days, at the fifth hour of noon, to exchange the items and remaining payment.” The Smith stood. If he didn’t loom over, Alister suspected his head might’ve brushed the ceiling.

Mirielle, Alister and Ethan stood as well and followed The Smith to the door. He opened it and waited for them to walk out.

“One more thing. It would be wise to make the two of you look more like siblings. Goodbye.” The Smith, still inside, closed the door.

“Isn’t he coming out?” Alister murmured to Ethan, who rolled his eyes.

“Maybe he wants more tea. What I’m more concerned ’bout is how we’ll get our hands on nine marks!” He glared at Mirielle. “You gave him all the coin you had, didn’t you? Ain’t you got any idea the sort of thing what could happen to us if we don’t pay someone like The Smith his due?”

Alister stared at Ethan. He hadn’t thought about that.

Mirielle sniffed and led them through the doors of Paintbrush of the Sage. “First of all, it’s only seven marks and two fifths, with today’s payment. Secondly, we’ll get the coin. I have an idea.” The carriage they came in was waiting for them.

“Short of breakin’ into your parent’s mansion, how will we get so many marks?” Ethan stomped into the carriage.

Mirielle held up a finger to pause him as she told the driver a different location, instead of her mansion. Taking her time, she stepped into the carriage and sat with a satisfied smile. “The kite races.”

Alister raised an eyebrow. “Kite races? But the Tournament of the Skies isn’t until summer, right?”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed further. “You ain’t talkin’ ’bout the Flight of Siben, are you?”

“I am.”

“What’s the Flight of Siben?” All Alister could gather was that it would take place during Siben, the first month of winter.

“You must be out of your mind!” Ethan grimaced and ignored Alister. “We ain’t goin’ to risk our healths in the dim hope we might win! Not to mention we’d have to get a lot of people invested to earn nine—” Mirielle shot him a look, and he rolled his eyes. “Okay, just over seven marks, from scratch.”

“It won’t be a risk. Jondar said Alister had one of the best natural gifts for flying he’d ever seen, and if he doesn’t involve himself with the other contestants, he’s unlikely to get injured.”

Alister leaned forward. “What’s the Flight of Siben? A kite race?”

Ethan didn’t so much as glance at him. “And the coin? How will we scrape together so much startin’ from nothin’?”

“We won’t need much.” Mirielle raised her chin. “Someone who has never entered before will be high risk, and high reward. If I manage the bets placed on Alister, then we would get some of their profits.”

“What’s the Flight of Siben?”

Ethan finally turned to Alister. “It’s a kite race on the first day of Siben. But not the huge, regulated, official-like Tournament of the Skies. Oh, no. It’s banned, for starters, ’cause too many people were killed, or close to.” At Alister’s raised eyebrows, Ethan nodded. “That’s right. People have died, and not just the fliers. Even the crowd, when they crash down on them.”

Mirielle rolled her eyes. “Since when are you afraid to break the law, Platt?” She turned to Alister. “He’s exaggerating, anyway. It was mainly banned due to the gambling culture, and the coin that wasn’t won didn’t go back to the city like it does on Flight Day.”

“So people have died? What makes it so much more dangerous than the Tournament, anyway?”

Mirielle hesitated. “Well, yes, a few people have died. But the deaths are far and few between, and they only happened when contestants became far too competitive.”

Ethan crossed his arms. “The Tournament of the Skies has this no contact rule, so if you even skim your wing ‘cross another flier’s by accident, you’re out. Not to mention, in such a fancible event, the contestants are kept under a close watch the whole time, so they wouldn’t even breathe the same air as each other, let alone sabotage each other. The Flight of Siben, though, has no rules but first to finish wins. If a flier is Marked, you can sure as anythin’ bet they’ll be usin’ that to their gain. Others bring weapons, or make their kites into weapons. Falls what happen in the Flight don’t happen ’cause of a lack of skill like in the Tournament, but ’cause other fliers have taken them out. That’s what the race is about.”

Mirielle shook her head. “You’re wrong. If Alister was to enter and stay away from the other fliers, before and during the race, and just use skill instead of sabotage, he would have a real chance. The others spend so much time thinking about how they’ll get past the other fliers, they don’t practice flying fast and well.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “How would a fancible Silvian lady such as yourself even know a burned thing about a banned kite race?”

Mirielle glared at him for the insult, but didn’t retort. “Jondar took me after we met, and I’ve been going ever since. Back then, it had only just been banned, so the brutality wasn’t anything like the way it’s become. People still stuck to their old rules before they realised it didn’t matter anymore.”

“I bet you had a grand ole time, playin’ pretend to be a commoner amongst the poor.” Ethan shot her a glare. “But this ain’t a game, and the Flight ain’t some sort of twisted entertainin’. This is Ali’s life you’re talkin’ about.”

“What’s your suggestion, then? We’d never be able to steal so much coin—anyone who has that much on hand would keep it safe.”

“I don’t ruttin’ know, but I’m not willin’ to put Ali’s life at stake!”

Mirielle opened her mouth for what looked to be an indignant retort, but Alister interrupted.

“Listen!” They stopped and stared at him. “Ethan, if I win this, will it get us enough to afford The S—Mister Black’s documents?”

“I’m not lyin’ when I say you could get hurt serious—”

“Just answer the question.”

Ethan folded his arms and slumped in his seat. “Aye, there’d be more’n enough.”

Alister nodded, satisfied, and spoke to Mirielle. “Do you really think I can win this? I haven’t ridden a kite in over six months.”

Mirielle’s eyes were determined. “Jondar didn’t give out praise like that for a mediocre flier. Besides, we’ve four days until the first of the month to practise.”

“Then I say we do it.”

Ethan leaned forward, his anger replaced by worry. “I don’t think you realise how dangerous this is, Ali. ’Sides, we don’t even have a kite at The Kite’s Way, except for a decorative one on the sign.”

“If you can think of a better way to pay Mister Black and get to Deemstun, you let me know. Mirielle is going to try and replace a place to stay with her friends, right? They’ll have the best kites you can buy.”

Mirielle tilted the curtain with her finger and gazed outside. “Speaking of which, we’re at Briahan’s street now. I’ll come by The Kite’s Way first thing tomorrow morning with a kite, and we can start practicing.”

Ethan glared at the wall. “I don’t like this.”

Alister frowned. “Why not? You’ve had no trouble breaking the law in the past.”

“There’s a certain honour held among those in the streets. We helped each other out, for the most part. But not everyone upholds that, and the kind who like to take all for their selves without any concern of who it’s hurtin’ are exactly the kind of people who enter the Flight.” He eyed Alister. “I’ll help. But I don’t have to pretend to be okay with this race.”

The carriage slowed and Mirielle stood. “You know, I am pleasantly surprised with your level of integrity.” She stepped out the door and closed it behind her before he could respond, and after a moment, the carriage rolled forwards.

Ethan crossed his arms. “That woman can’t even give a compliment without it also bein’ an insult. It’s the same as what you would say to a child.” He put on a high, mocking voice. “Oh, you can count to ten! Very good!” He snorted. “If she sticks her nose up any higher she won’t be able to see where she’s goin’.”

Alister laughed, and Ethan chuckled along.

“Come on.” Alister nudged Ethan with his elbow. “She’s not that bad. And she does have good ideas.”

Ethan laughed again. “Aye, we’ll see how good you think her ideas are four days from now.”

Alister and Ethan ate their dinner out in the garden, during the brief moment of quiet between serving food and collecting plates to the others staying at The Kite’s Way.

Ethan was quiet, and his eyebrows pulled down as he worked on the steamed vegetables.

“Alright, Ethan?” He would’ve assumed it was with regards to Fillion Platt, but Ethan’s father had recovered from his strange laughter in the morning.

Ethan didn’t answer as he chewed his mouthful of bread, and continued to stare into the trees. “You remember what I said to Mirielle after we met with The Smith? ’Bout what could happen if we don’t pay him?”

“We’ll pay him.” We’ve got to.

Ethan’s head didn’t move as he looked at Alister. “I’m not saying you ain’t a natural flier. But the Flight of Siben ain’t just flyin’ ‘round a course a couple times. How much experience do you really have with this kind of flyin’?”

“None.” Ethan’s eyebrows flew up. “But we’ve four days to practice, and if I just fly the race straight and clean like Mirielle said, and—”

“…If you’re lucky, you’ll win. I’m just sayin’ there’s a chance you won’t. Or is your head so inflated from Lark’s praise, you don’t think that’s a possibility?”

“Of course it is. I won’t be unrealistic.”

Ethan set aside his plate and turned to face Alister. “And do you know what could happen if you do lose? If we can’t pay The Smith?” Ethan’s tone made it clear these questions were rhetorical. “A man like that has so many assassins workin’ for him, we’ll be glad if he’s merciful enough to only stab our hearts. There’re so many more painful ways he could choose to kill us.” He sighed in frustration. “You and Mirielle ain’t got much to lose now she’s cut off, but he’ll take The Kite’s Way as payment, and I’m sure he won’t be real nice to my father, either.” Ethan ran a hand through his hair. “You’ve dragged me into quite the mess, Ali.”

Alister’s eyes fell. “I’m sorry. If I’d known, I’d never have asked you to help me replace Ronan.”

Ethan laughed without humour. “If I’d known Mirielle would get herself cut off and still accept The Smith’s offer, I’d never have agreed.”

They sat in silence, not eating, both staring into the dark of the garden.

Alister sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful my family or friends aren’t with me. Even if The Smith comes after me, they’re safe back in Rindor.”

Ethan ran a hand through his hair. “Rindor. I can’t believe I fell for Illeryan. ’Course you ain’t from the west, with hair that dark. So what really happened to bring you here?”

“The Defenders arrived in Delemor, looking for Ronan. I hadn’t exactly been hiding him before then, and if somebody saw me and told the Defenders, then I thought people in Bastium may’ve heard about it.”

Ethan chuckled. “I don’t exactly hang on to every piece of news I get.”

“I didn’t want to take any chances.” Was the deceit justified if he rescued Lark? How far should he be willing to go for the cause?

“I don’t blame you, you know.” Ethan elbowed Alister’s recoiling side. “You chosen odd times to be street smart, Ali. You give me only a first name and a false home, and yet you trust boys on the street not to steal from you.” He cocked his head to the side. “Hey, so did you leave Rindor for the same reason you told me about Illeryan? To see the Union and all that?”

Alister stammered a response that could’ve been the truth or lie, but before he was forced to decide, he was interrupted by one of the inn’s servers, Laune, who yelled out the window of the kitchens.

“Some lady’s here to see you boys.”

Relief washed over Alister as strongly as Sanctuary Falls would. “You think it’s Mirielle?”

Ethan’s eyes lit up. “She said she’d be here in the mornin’, not after dark.”

“Who else could it be?”

Ethan shrugged, but his hopeful eyes searched the doorway as they came out of the kitchens. His expression melted away when he saw Mirielle.

“You ain’t meant to come ‘til mornin’.”

Alister blinked. Mirielle wore a simple woollen dress, and her hair was bound in a braid. Her face was clean of makeup, and her enchanting beauty he’d grown used to was now a subtler elegance. Her changed appearance surprised him enough, it took another moment to note her uneasy expression.

“There was a change of plans.” No hint of her usual proud fervour remained.

“What happened?”

“None of my friends would allow me to stay with them once they heard what happened.” Her cheeks reddened. “So I suppose they weren’t truly my friends. I only know one other person outside of Al’Silvian. I’ll be staying with her and her husband in Al’Rogier for now.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “How do you know someone from Rogier?”

“She was granted an education at Silvian Academy without paying, based on her performance, but she still lived in Rogier. I hadn’t seen her since the academy until this afternoon.”

Alister tilted his head in confusion. Surely she would’ve seen this woman since the academy if she knew her well enough to stay with her for free. “Were you friends with this woman?”

Mirielle tapped her fingers on the table and bit her bottom lip. “Not exactly. I used to give her a hard time in the academy. She’s a Henlaen, and I’d tease her about that, amongst other things. As it turns out, I’m glad she believes in Henlae, because if it weren’t for the generosity her god requires, she wouldn’t have let me stay with her.”

“A Henlaen?” Ethan rolled his eyes. “All that stuff about actin’ all perfect always seemed too much of a bother to me. ’Sides, whenever a person is too nice, it freaks me out.”

“When Elisea forgave me, it didn’t freak me out.” Mirielle gave a small smile. “I’m not saying I’m Henlaen or anything, but I’m sure glad she is.”

Alister’s attentive ears listened to the two of them discuss Henlaens. Most of the Union held fast to the belief the Divine would reveal himself when it came to it, but certain cities were Henlaen, and believed the Divine spoke to them and demanded all sorts of deeds.

Ethan folded his arms. “Wait, so how are we goin’ to get a kite? Does this Elisea have one?”

Mirielle nodded. “Her and her husband, Emmett, share one. It’s cheaper than a wind-chaser. They’re willing to let me use it. More Henlaen generosity.”

“Do they know it’s for the Flight? Henlaen aren’t too impressed with law-breakin’, are they?”

“They don’t know.” Mirielle looked to Alister. “Their house is close to where the Flight of Siben is held, so I thought we could meet there tomorrow morning. I came to give you the address and to tell you not to mention the Flight to the Perigos.”

“Sounds good. Then we start tomorrow.”

Much depended on him doing well in the Flight of Siben, and dreadful consequences awaited should he lose. But now, all he could think about was how the wind would flow through his hair when he rode a kite again.