The Telastrian Song Read Online Free Page B

long since chimed for twelve bells. Although the city never truly slept, seeing a young lad and his mother out and about at that hour was unusual. They were both hesitant and she had to urge the boy forward. The behaviour was characteristic of those seeking out the illegal services of a practitioner. They might fear magic, hate it even, but it was a different story when they needed it. The boy’s arm was in a sling, and even from his vantage point on the wall Giura could see that the lad was in a great deal of pain.
    They stopped by the door to the practitioner’s apartment. She pulled the bell chain at the door, looking over her shoulder with as guilty an expression as Giura had ever seen. Two stories above, the man in the apartment went to the window, opened it and peered out. Giura’s heart raced as he strained to make himself as small as possible on the wall-top. He held his breath and gritted his teeth; had he been unwise in remaining there so long? Nerli glanced down to the doorway and nodded when he saw the woman and child, never looking in Giura’s direction. Giura breathed a sigh of relief as the man withdrew from the window and closed it without seeing him.
    Nerli answered the door a moment later and brought the woman and boy up to his apartment. There were plenty of back alley quacks in the city, most not worth notice but a few with a little genuine, albeit limited, talent. Some Giura had arrested, others he allowed to go free—always a finely balanced decision of when they were doing more good than they were capable of doing wrong.
    This man was more than them, far more. The arrival of an injured child was a surprise. How had they known about him? Relatives? The power this man had was worth keeping secret. Healing the child was a mistake. With so much magical skill, surely he was smart enough to realise that? A grateful mother might be sworn to secrecy, but a quickly healed injury would need explaining and secrets were always far more fun when shared. People liked to show others that they knew important, secret things. Another one of those qualities that made Giura’s job a little easier. Each healed child or family favour would bring the Intelligenciers one step closer to discovering this man. Perhaps he just liked to show off. Perhaps he was naive. Perhaps he just didn’t care.
    Giura couldn’t see what was going on in the apartment, but it wasn’t long before the mother and child appeared back on the street—the boy without his sling. He flexed his arm enthusiastically and was chastised by his mother. Dutifully, but with a glum face, he pulled the sling from his pocket and put it back on. Giura smiled. She was making an effort at least. He wondered how long that would last; how long before every mother in her apartment building knew of the man that could mend their children’s broken bones.
    What was in it for the practitioner? Everyone knew about the Intelligenciers and how they prowled the city hunting down and stamping out magery, among other things. Their headquarters, the Grey Tower, was spoken of in hushed tones with genuine fear. Did this man think he was too powerful to need to worry about them? The idea sent a chill through Giura. What if he was right?
    As Giura walked back to the Grey Tower, he wondered what more the man could do. Could he break bones as easily as mend them? Magic was a fascinating thing, though illegal. Through the twisting streets of Ostenheim, all Giura could wonder about was how the man had learned what he had and who his friends were. So many interesting questions, so many secrets to uncover. Times like that reminded him how much he loved his job.

    C ristan Nerli woke later than usual, and later than he would have liked. Healing the boy’s arm had taken far more out of him than he expected. His body was all aches when he got out of bed, and the conveniences afforded by his new skills were beyond him. The Master was due to call on him later that day, so he needed to be