Chapter 24

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***

Together with Detmold, hiding in one of the unremarkable alleys of the Temple Quarter - of which there were most - we prepared to search for the thieves.

- Do you think our illusions are enough? - My companion examined himself.

Our appearance was likely to be memorable to them, if they'd even followed us before the theft. The conspicuous uniforms of Ban Ard Academy graduates, and we wore no other, made us stand out from the rest of the crowd. We had to change our clothes with the help of illusions to something plain, unremarkable. We chose greyish cloaks, knee-length, with hoods in the back.

Hiding their faces under the hoods, they stepped out into one of the streets and looked around.

- This should be enough. Let's walk together, each looking in a different direction - I'll inspect the left side of the road, Detmold will pay attention to the right. - Let's go.

During the search, which lasted for a couple of hours, we managed to find a similar guy, but as we approached him, I realised that he was only similar: he was about five centimetres taller; his hair was almost half as long.

We didn't want to ask any of the locals if they had seen him or not. - We'll save that kind of search for later. If we can't find it ourselves, we'll start asking around.... magic helps.

- Look, it looks similar, - whispered Detmold quietly.

I look in the direction he pointed discreetly from under his cloak. There, still in one of the corners, leaning against the wall of the building, stood a red-haired kid. Eyes closed, standing relaxed.

- Let's get closer, - I'm heading in his direction.

As we were approaching, a fat man with an apron approached the kid. He called out to the guy and then waved his hand in the direction of the building - apparently a shop.

- What now? - Detmold asks. - He'll leave.

- I don't think so. He works here. - I keep watching the entrance to the building. This time I glance at the sign - a bakery. I turn my gaze to the nook where the redhead was standing earlier. - ...as a loader, probably.

And indeed, the assumption was correct. The kid started carrying baked goods to that nook, handing them to some stranger standing on a cart. The stranger stacked the passed baked goods on the cart and covered them with a cloth.

- All right, we got one. The main thing is not to make a fuss and not to scare him away, - I took Detmold aside, so that we could not be seen from the shop. - We wait for the goods to leave and then we act. Listen to the plan...

After ten minutes of waiting, the cart left the nook, and the guy standing there got a handful of coins from the owner and, after a few words with him, went in the opposite direction. We followed him.

We followed him for a long time. We managed to walk along one of the streets, visit the local market - the kid bought some food - and followed him for about five minutes afterwards. When he went into an alley, they started to act:

- Se Quoro,' I said quietly, casting a choking spell so the thief wouldn't draw unwanted attention to us. Unable to breathe, the guy grabs his throat, dropping the bag of groceries he bought at the market. - Nut raph Polda, - from the next spell, thin darkish lines ran down the guy's body, braiding him from all sides. - Grab him,' I say to Detmold.

I grab the grocery bag myself. It would be strange if in a rather poor neighbourhood someone would find a bag of groceries lying around, especially if someone were to meet the kid in this place.

Dumped our burden in an abandoned building. No one was inside, and there were rarely any passersby outside.

- Din Ardh Voronwie andave, - I hide all sounds around. Now we can do the interrogation. I remove the choking spell, just before the boy loses consciousness.

- Ahem, ha-ha-ha,' we wait for him to regain his breath. - Wh-what do w-what do you want? - he stammers in panic.

- We want our property, punk! - Detmold approaches him, hovering menacingly over the redhead. - Speak nicely: where did you hide it? - After his question, he took off his hood, revealing his face.

The boy's eyes widened in recognition. Recognised the warlocks, whose wagon they had partially ransacked.

- Mercy, Mr Warlock! We haven't sold anything! I'll show you! Honestly!

- Of course you will,' Detmold grinned.

- You'll have to tell me the details first. You'll have time to show, - I turn to the guy. - How many of you? Where do you live? Is all the goods in one place? Go ahead. And, yeah, you better not be lying. Trust me, you're not gonna like it if we start poking around in your mind. We'll find what we want to find, but you-- you could go crazy. I embellished that, of course. Severe headaches? Yes. But your mind will remain intact if you don't do anything to hurt it.

Under our keen eyes, the frightened boy began to recount the story.

There were thirteen men in their group, a band of thieves, five of whom were children. The children were sometimes sent to the Merchant's Quarter to climb everywhere, looking for ways to get into various places, as had happened with the merchant's hangar. And when they found such places, the adult part of their group would help the kids steal something expensive. They were lucky with the merchant, he had put everything in their hands himself, turning a blind eye to the hangar's break-in, expecting a portion of the proceeds from the stolen goods.... the fool.

We also got a lead on where the kid was headed. Now he's coming home with us. If it was all adults, I mean the supposed eight people, it wouldn't matter. With two mages and a sword at the ready, we weren't afraid of anything.

I handed the kid the grocery bag he'd dropped in the alley, and then, telling him to lead us, I followed behind with Detmold. At any moment - if the kid was to scramble anywhere, I'd cast a simple cramp spell on him. It's a nasty thing, makes the muscles in your calves contract involuntarily. The cramp in my legs prevents me from running any further, hence the need for catching up.

After a little winding through the narrow streets at the edge of the neighbourhood, we finally turned to the entrance of the courtyard, where - according to the kid - lived their gang.

- Stop,' I get an unpleasant feeling. I grab the guide by the shoulder. - We've been passing by, from the beginning, why didn't you come in?

- Huh? - He stares at me in surprise. - We always walk like this... so as not to attract attention.

- Let's see,' I draw my sword from its sheath. Then I push the boy into Detmold's arms. - Keep an eye on him, they probably know about us.

- What do you mean? No one has seen us,' the warlock said in surprise.

- Maybe,' I keep my eyes on the child. - Or maybe we think we have, so be ready.

I enter the courtyard first, relying on my foresight. At first there wasn't much to see, but later, as soon as we were through the courtyard, people jumped out of the doors on the second-floor balconies and a couple of doors downstairs.

- Hm-mm, I'm not lying,' I looked around. Exactly thirteen, counting the kid behind me.

Apparently he was too afraid of me messing with his mind to tell the truth. But he was not afraid to warn his own... by showing the uninvited guests the first time they passed near the courtyard.

- Who are you!? - shouted a man with long black hair and a scar on his lower lip - I'd seen it in the merchant's memory. - Let Ruf go at once! Or else you'll be responsible for yourselves! - He kept threatening us.

Not just threats, as I could tell from the crossbows on the other members of the gang. A couple of them had bows. In general, it looked like this: the three from below had daggers, axes and swords; two each had bows and crossbows; the ringleader - as it seemed to me - had weapons hidden under his cloak; the children, at first glance, had no weapons, and just watched from the backs of the adults.

- Do you even know who you stole from? - I removed my illusion, and Detmold repeated after me.

The sight of the wizard's robes made the leader frown. Or maybe he didn't like the illusion removal itself. After all, it was one thing to put on wizard's rags, or rags that looked like wizard's rags. It's quite another to conjure in front of your eyes.

- We'll get your things back,' the gang leader pressed his lips together, glancing around at the rest of the group, confused by the mages' appearance. - Let him go.

- No, no,' Detmold squeezed the boy's shoulder harder. - Get our stuff and our com-pen-sation,' he said the last word separately. - I'm sick of fucking tracking you down! - I had to agree, because it made me feel pretty bad about myself.

- Then... - the leader nods.

- Argh! - I hear a shriek behind me, but I can't turn round - I had to put up a magic shield.

The Mark of Quen, or rather the effect of it in the form of a dome-shaped golden film, had no trouble deflecting the projectiles fired at me. I should use more of the spells I was used to, because I relied too much on my witch counterparts, which were weaker in their own right.

Then I sent Bronwyn's Squall, a spell named after the warlock from Skelege, which pushed back the nearest targets like a battering ram.

Past actions took a measly four seconds, finally allowing me to turn around. As I turned my head, I noticed the silhouette of a boy running away from Detmold towards the people who had flown away from my 'battering ram'. The warlock himself was holding on with his hand to a shiv that had gone halfway into his leg.

- You little bastard! - roared his partner. - Sar pilininge stath!

In just a couple of seconds from the moment he cast the spell, three stalagmites formed next to his hand, pointing in the direction of the fleeing boy.

I felt uncomfortable with what I was seeing, but my foresight took over. I had to defend myself from the arrows again, crossbow bolts flying behind my back - Detmold was the target.

- No! Ruth! - A woman with what I recognised as red hair, who had recovered from the impact with the wall after being hit by Bronwyn's Squall, rushed to the child who had fallen to the ground.

- Fuck, why can't everything be simple,' I decide not to think about Detmold's actions for now. They're trying to kill me, which means I have to act tough. I clench my blade tighter and, picking the nearest target on the balcony, I do a Blink.