Shadowwwing
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65. With Friends Like These...
🕑 Added 2025-06-29 22:00:06 +0000 UTCIt didn’t take long before Jiang regretted accepting the thief’s offer. Not because she tried to betray him or anything – just because of the smell.
He hadn’t felt entirely comfortable running along the rooftops in the dark, but compared to the stench of the tight labyrinth of alleyways she was now leading him through, the rooftops were practically heaven. Gods, he missed the clean smell of the forest.
That wasn’t to say that they’d abandoned the rooftops entirely – he wasn’t sure if she was taking such a winding and complicated path to avoid pursuit or just to confuse him, but it resulted in them dipping down to street level, running through a few alleyways, then climbing another wall and crossing a few rooftops, only to repeat the process. Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that he could use the ocean as a landmark to keep his bearings, he would have been hopelessly lost by now.
He followed her down a rusted iron ladder that groaned under his weight, landing softly in a narrow gap between two leaning buildings. The alley floor was a treacherous mix of mud and frozen refuse, and he had to watch his footing with every step. The girl moved with a swift, sure-footed confidence, clearly at home in the city’s guts.
He was… not.
The rustle of a predator in the undergrowth was a language he understood; the echo of a drunkard’s shout off grimy brick was just noise.
“Where are we going?” he finally asked, mostly in an effort to distract himself from the unidentifiable substance currently squelching beneath his feet.
She glanced back, her face a pale oval in the gloom. “I already told you, somewhere we can lie low. Just try to keep up.”
Jiang rolled his eyes, though she’d already turned back. “Wow, try to not be too descriptive,” he snarked. “If it’s all the same to you, though, I’d like some indication you’re not trying to lead me into a trap.”
She stopped for a second, turning to face him with an exasperated sigh. “Oh, I’m sorry, I must have forgotten it’s you doing me the favour right now. My mistake, your lordship.” The thief dropped into a rough curtsy, holding imaginary skirts. “If it pleases m’lord, we’re going to Old Nan’s. Happy?”
“Not really,” Jiang deadpanned back. “Considering I don’t know where that is.”
The girl threw her hands up in exasperation. “Then why waste my time with stupid questions?”
Jiang could have pointed out how it was impossible for him to have known whether he would recognise the location before she’d actually told him where they were going, but he got the feeling the frustrating girl wouldn’t care.
“Can you at least tell me your name?” he asked, hoping to get at least some useful information out of her.
She rolled her eyes. “Lin. Now, if you’re quite done with the interrogation, we’re almost there.”
Lin turned back and continued walking down the narrow alley they were in, but Jiang could still clearly hear her grumbling to herself about pushy, impatient idiots.
“Jiang,” he called out to her back, simply because it seemed like the thing to do – realising a second later that he probably should have come up with a fake name or something. He was quickly starting to realise he really wasn’t cut out for this whole thief business.
She didn’t respond, which was a little rude. Then again, Jiang wasn’t exactly a paragon of good manners himself, so he simply huffed and continued to follow her. After another minute or so, Lin stopped in front of a scarred and paint-peeled door that looked like it would fall apart if anyone leaned on it too hard. She gave it a specific, rhythmic knock – two quick taps, a pause, then one more – then pushed it open without waiting.
The stench of the alley was immediately replaced by something Jiang could only describe as an ‘old person’ smell – a sort of vaguely musty scent mixed with dried herbs and a faint trace of old tallow. It was somehow almost exactly like Madame Hu’s house used to smell, and Jiang found himself having to push down an unexpected pang of grief.
It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim interior. The space was a single, large room warmed by a low-burning fire in a wide stone hearth. It was a jumble of mismatched furniture, with piles of rags and blankets creating makeshift beds in the corners.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this. A low murmur of conversation came from a small group of youths huddled on crates near the fire. They looked up as Lin entered, their expressions guarded. There were maybe half a dozen of them, all around his age or a little younger, their clothes worn but clean enough.
“Lin,” one of the older boys greeted her with a nod, his eyes flicking past her to linger on Jiang with open suspicion. “Cutting it close tonight. The Watch has been sniffing around the east quarter.”
“The Watch can bite me,” Lin replied, moving past him to snag a waterskin from a nearby hook. “Besides, you know they’re too lazy to check these alleys.” She took a long drink before gesturing vaguely at Jiang with the skin. “This one’s with me. He’s baggage, but he might be useful later.”
The boy just grunted, his gaze making it clear Jiang wasn’t welcome. That was… a little offensive, especially considering which one of them had woken up the merchant in the first place, but Jiang ignored it. He was starting to get the feeling that he’d be ignoring a lot of things when it came to Lin.
Hopefully, he’d be able to get some information out of her about the best ways to move through the city while avoiding the Watch. Worst case scenario, he figured he’d spend an uncomfortable night in this weird place and leave in the morning.
Lin tugged on his sleeve, pulling him toward an empty corner piled with what looked like old potato sacks and a few thin, threadbare blankets. “Come on. Don’t just stand there like a lump.”
He followed her, dropping his pack onto the dusty floorboards with a soft thud. The youths by the fire went back to their own quiet conversation, pointedly ignoring them. “What is this place?” Jiang asked, his voice low.
“It’s Old Nan’s,” Lin said, settling onto one of the sacks and starting to unlace her boots. “She’s the old woman who lives here. Blind as a cave bat and a bit… out there,” she added, tapping her temple. “We bring her food, firewood, make sure she doesn’t burn the place down. In return, she lets us stay when we need to. Doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t call the Watch. It’s a good arrangement.”
Jiang nodded in understanding. He’d wondered about why there were so many raggedy-looking kids hiding out in this one place – but it made sense. Winter was harsh whether you lived in a city or not, and even in Liǔxī, there’d been a couple of orphans, though they’d been taken in by neighbours. A place like Qinghe would probably have hundreds at minimum, and that inevitably meant some would slip through the cracks.
It made sense. What didn’t make sense was Lin bringing him here. By the sounds of things, this place was something like a safe haven for the poor and downtrodden – hardly the kind of place you show to someone you just met and can’t really trust.
“Why bring me here?” he asked. “I doubt you did it purely out of the goodness of your heart.”
Lin snorted softly. “Guess you’re not entirely hopeless after all. No, I… I brought you here because you don’t make sense.”
Jiang raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue. He somewhat doubted curiosity was enough.
“Look, it’s pretty obvious you’re not a thief,” she said bluntly, “and you don’t strike me as some noble kid trying to play at being poor for the fun of it either.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re dressed like a hunter, carry a pouch full of silver, break into a merchant’s shop for a comb, and run from the city watch. Nobody does something like that for fun, which makes me think you’re working for someone else – someone who apparently pays well.”
She shrugged. “So, I took a risk. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life on the streets, and I don’t want to sell my body to get off them either, which doesn’t leave an uneducated orphan with many options. I figure I help you out, you put in a good word for me with whoever it is you work for.”
Well then. If nothing else, Jiang couldn’t fault her logic. She saw an opportunity and took a calculated risk. He’d done the same thing his whole life, whether it was tracking a wounded deer into dangerous territory or leaving the Sect on the whisper of a rumour. Almost despite himself, he wondered if he could actually help Lin out. He wouldn’t jeopardise his family for her, of course, but pragmatism like that was to be respected. Maybe he would mention her to the Broker once he got the information he needed.
Or maybe… maybe there was a way for them both to benefit. If the twenty silver he’d gotten for this job was any indication, the Broker did indeed pay well – almost ridiculously so – and while Jiang didn’t know precisely what the next jobs the Broker wanted him to complete would entail, having someone who knew the city well on his side was undoubtedly going to be a benefit.
Before he could consider the matter further, a soft creak came from a darkened doorway at the back of the room. A hunched, frail figure emerged, shuffling into the dim firelight. It was an old woman, her back bent, her face a roadmap of deep wrinkles.
She moved with a slow, hesitant gait, one hand tracing the rough wall for guidance. Her eyes were milky and unfocused, clearly unseeing. Yet, as she shuffled into the main room, her head turned to fix directly on Jiang. Her blind gaze seemed to bore right through him, and a sudden, prickling chill ran down his spine.
Lin let out a long, deeply put-upon sigh beside him. “Gods, not again,” she muttered, scrubbing a hand over her face. She nudged him with her elbow. “She’s prone to wandering. Just ignore her; she’s harmless.”
The old woman took another shuffling step in his direction, her head still tilted as if listening to something only she could hear. Some of the children sleeping by the fire stirred restlessly but didn’t wake. Lin groaned and pushed herself to her feet.
“I’ll get her back to bed,” she said, her movements speaking of a familiar, irritating chore. “Come on, Nan,” she said, her voice softening just a fraction. “Time for sleep.”
Lin reached out to take the old woman’s arm, but Nan pulled back with surprising speed, her head cocked as if listening intently. A thin, reedy voice, cracked with age and vaguely unsettling, filled the quiet room.
“Can’t sleep,” she murmured to the empty air, then trailed off, a vacant look on her face. “Not with that noise. Can’t you hear it? Nothing, then… then a tapping, yes. A tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.”
Lin sighed. “Sorry if we woke you, Nan,” she said gently. “We’ll try to be quieter out here. Come on, let’s get you back to bed. It’s cold out here.”
Nan ignored her completely. A slow, unnerving smile spread across her wrinkled face, aimed squarely at the corner where Jiang sat. When she spoke, her voice was no longer frail but sharp with a chilling clarity that made the hairs on Jiang’s arms stand up.
“Ah, but it wasn’t tapping, was it?” she whispered, the smile growing on her face. “No, no, no. It was a flapping. A lonely little raven, come to visit. How… interesting.”
Comments
Raymond Mouton
Good Chapter. Thanks.
