ARC: Sunstone Read Online Free Page A

earned it.
    III
    It was difficult to walk, stumbling in the darkness with a cloth sack over her head.
    Sarra kept her complaints to herself, however, determined not to make a fuss. In spite of her irritation at being treated as if she were untrustworthy, she understood how imperative it was that their destination remain a secret, and that the members of the group remain anonymous. Their lives depended on it, and if she discovered who they were and where they were going before she had established their trust, she had no doubt what that would mean. She would be found floating in the Great Lake with the turtles, and nobody would come forward to claim her. Her body would be taken to the depths of the Secundus District and burned, and nobody would mourn one less mouth to feed. So she remained silent, even though she occasionally stumbled and twisted her ankle or stubbed her toe on a rock, thinking instead of the future, clinging to the hope of better things to come.
    Presumably, they thought she had no idea where she was. From their starting point in Pisspot Lane in the Primus District, their course had twisted and turned through the streets until eventually she had lost all sense of direction. But she was able to follow their route by the smells that penetrated the cloth.
    The acrid stench of urine and leather from the tanners was gradually replaced by the smell of peat as they skirted the river banks and the weavers’ houses, distinguishable by the aroma of dried mosses and pungent dyes. When the tang of fish assailed her nostrils, she knew they were crossing the quay around the Great Lake. Here they moved slowly, keeping to the shadows of the houses – after all, if the Select caught two people escorting another in such a manner, with her head covered, there would be questions to answer and her chance would be over. So she trod carefully over the fishermen’s nets and tried not to rattle the turtle shells as the men escorted her along the western edge of the quay.
    Their path twisted and turned some more and she lost her sense of direction again. They paused frequently, her guards pushing her into alleyways as voices came towards them. The bustle of people and the stink of perfume oil announced the presence of the whorehouses, which meant they were travelling into the Secundus District. Her heart rate increased even more. She rarely entered the area, preferring to keep to the trade regions and the relative security of the family caverns in Primus. Everyone knew the Select had less control over the inhabitants in Secundus. Overcrowding, poverty, starvation and murder were all commonplace. She clutched hold of Geve’s hand, and his tightened on hers in response, comforting her.
    The aroma of berry pie told her when they had reached the playhouse. At this late hour, the shows had concluded, but the aroma of baked pastry and cooked fruit still pervaded the air and made her mouth water. The smell made her smile, in spite of her nerves. Rauf had loved pie. He had introduced her to all kinds, brought into the palace from across the sectors, flavoured with fruits and herbs she had never even heard of, let alone tasted before. He had even given her some of the legendary whiskey brewed in the Tertius Sector, although she had not liked it much. He had laughed heartily at the faces she pulled before he took her in his arms and stifled her complaints with kisses.
    She pushed the thoughts of him away from her mind. Rauf was gone. The tears she had cried over him could have filled the Great Lake three times over, but she was done mourning. She had to fend for herself now.
    They were entering deeper into the Secundus District now. It was late, the alehouses would be full, and she could hear men fighting, the bellow of voices and the crunch of fist meeting bone. In the distance, a woman screamed, abruptly cut off. The air smelled sour and fetid, of unwashed bodies, vomit and other bodily fluids. The men with her moved more quickly,