Chapter 22: Quinn

Quinn walked south along an unnamed narrow, twisty street that was lined with shops, their owners standing at the doorways hawking the attractiveness of their wares. He hoped it led to the fighting pits. He ignored the noise; his mind was flush with a rare sense of satisfaction. The meetings with Larissa and the others had gone well. He’d managed to kick-start the rebuilding process. Success or failure was now up to them. Surely whatever goddess was in charge of dispensing karma would now have reason to cut him some slack for his sins.

Now, he walked along, actually appreciating the ambiance of the ancient waterfront instead of assessing the environment for threats.

He quickly got turned around. In Oldtown’s other districts, the streets and lanes ran mostly in straight directions; in Southmarket, they ran twisted like a snake, creating a tangled grid of dead ends and narrow passages. It didn’t help that it was now full dark; he was soon wandering in a warren of twisty streets, fully lost.

A pair of street kids, a dwarf and a half-blood asrai, both maybe nine years old, were loitering near a baker’s weathered door, probably waiting for stales. They wore patched and worn clothing; the asrai’s green dress had been mended and patched many times, and the dwarf wore a comically oversized woolen sweater over canvas sailor castoffs. Both were barefoot. Quinn took in their alert eyes, loaded with street wisdom beyond their years. They would be familiar with every alley and shortcut for miles around.