Two Renegade Realms (Realm Walkers Book 2) (38 page)

He approached yet another shop. This one sold fragrances. He’d never known either of his lady cohorts to buy scent. Bixby smelled like a bouquet of flowers and herbs. Totobee-Rodolow carried an air of a sunny meadow after a rain shower. But he was pretty sure these fragrances came from something other than a bottle. Still, he didn’t want to leave a stone unturned. Someone had to know
something
.

At first, the shop appeared to be empty.

Cantor looked around for a bell to ring. “Hello?”

He coughed. The combination of bottled scents dulled his other senses and sent an unpleasant sensation to his stomach.
Bixby and Totobee-Rodolow surely had not set foot in this store. He turned to leave.

“Excuse me, sir. I carry the most exquisite perfumes, colognes, toilet waters, natural scents, and fragrant wax. What is your pleasure today?”

Cantor faced the man coming from a curtained door at the back of the store.

“Perhaps there’s a lady in your life? One who deserves a bouquet of exquisite flowers? A bottle of perfume lasts much longer than a posy of flowers.”

“I’m looking for a girl and two dragons who came shopping this morning.”

“Ahhh . . . the princess and her servants?”

Cantor ignored the fact that the two dragons were hardly servants. That was their cover, after all. “They were here?”

The shopkeeper pinched his upper lip and peered over the top of his glasses at his visitor. He drew himself up to his full height, significantly shorter than that of his customer. His expression changed to determination as he made some decision. Brushing past Cantor, he went to the front door. With a scowl, he searched the crowd in front of his shop and glanced to both ends of the street.

He came back with the demeanor of a man much disturbed. “Are you with the guild as well?”

Possibly, these words were meant to disconcert him. Cantor chose to keep his face blank, something Bixby had taught him.

The shopkeeper’s eyes darted to the front door and the back. He licked his lips and returned his hard gaze to Cantor’s face. “Well?”

Bixby and Totobee-Rodolow would not have declared they were realm walkers. Bixby rarely told anyone she was of royal
blood. But they had been out to attract attention, hoping that gossip would inform Cho and Dukmee of their presence.

Cantor made his judgment. Yes to revealing her heritage. No to admitting they were realm walkers. “I’m not associated with the Realm Walkers Guild. And neither are my friends.”

The man breathed a heavy sigh, then pulled in an equal volume of air. He nodded. “I feared they were. I could have given them aid, but I didn’t realize your three friends were on our side. Dressed as they were, how could I know they weren’t part and parcel with those lying, stealing, murdering cutthroats that run the guild? Or worse, associates in the king’s immoral and malevolent court.”

“We are on a mission of great import, but we don’t answer to the guild.”

“Who to, then?”

Cantor did a quick calculation of the risk in telling this man the truth. Truth always won in the end, so he accepted the hazard. “Chomountain.”

The shopkeeper’s face scrunched into a grimace of disgust. “So you don’t belong behind bars, but in a loony bin.” He sighed again. “Well, I’ll help you find your friends in spite of that.” He held up a finger. “One moment.”

The shopkeeper went through the curtain and came back in a few seconds. Cantor started to speak, but stopped at the man’s finger indicating he wanted another moment. He checked the street in front of his establishment, then returned to Cantor’s side.

“The princess purchased a large, fragile vase of extremely potent bath oil. She was very specific about the fragile vase. I wondered about it at the time. However, my main objective was to get these snooty, upper-crust citizens out of my shop.”

“I would think that you deal mostly with wealthy patrons.”

“I do. So well-to-do that they can’t be bothered to come to the market. At least, not this market. The market on Blail Street caters to them. I deal with their servants.”

“My friends?”

“They left the shop, and that’s when I suspected my mistake.” He glanced nervously to both exits in the room. “They were being followed by thugs I recognized as the king’s men. It’s as that saying goes — if my enemy is your enemy, we must be on the same side of the fence.”

That wasn’t exactly as Cantor remembered it, but he didn’t correct the man. He wanted the rest of the tale. “They followed my friends. Then what?”

“The thugs jumped them at the narrow intersection.” He pointed. “There. The princess smashed the bath oil over one man’s head, and the one behind him went reeling, overcome by the odor and a good kick from Her Highness.” He grinned with pleasure at the remembrance of the scene. “That’s when I realized the princess was not a part of the problem, the high and mighty lording over us as if Primen had given them special privilege.”

Cantor nearly bit his tongue in frustration. “Did the king’s men capture them? Were my friends taken prisoner?”

The shopkeeper’s face took on the wary expression he’d worn earlier. “No. They disappeared. I assumed through a portal. But since you say they are not realm walkers, then that possibility is nonexistent.” He pinned Cantor’s eye with his own. “Is that not so?”

“I didn’t say we weren’t realm walkers. I said we are not associated with the guild.”

“And the nonsense about Chomountain?”

“Is not nonsense.”

The shopkeeper raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Well, I hope you find your friends.”

Cantor recognized the dismissal. Obviously, the man couldn’t grasp the prospect of Chomountain returning to work among Primen’s people. Cantor grinned to himself as he left the shop. A lot of people were due to be surprised.

Out on the street, a new surge of pedestrians shopped with the urgency of a deadline. Soon the sun would set, and the citizens of Higtrap had a curfew.

Cantor weaved through the crowd to the intersection. The four shops on the corners looked normal enough. At this moment, no portal hung in the air. He stepped into the boot-maker’s and cast an eye over the shelves of footwear. Two customers had the clerk’s attention. Unwilling to ask questions in front of the two ladies, Cantor nipped out the door and across the street. Belnora’s Bakery’s window showed that business had been good. Crumbs on empty platters gave proof of delicious items having gone to fill someone’s belly.

A grumble rose from Cantor’s own stomach. He started through the door, only to back up and give a courtesy bow to a woman just leaving. Entering the cool interior of the shop, he saw that he was the only occupant other than the baker.

That man wore white garb covered with flour and a funny hat that reminded Cantor of one his Ahma had made for him. It had been destroyed in the caustic Joden Sea on Effram. His hat had been a combination of scraps of bright cloth, but the baker’s was stark white, emphasizing the ruddy, round face of the man who wore it.

“I’ve got some hard rolls, a few teacakes, two loaves of peppercorn bread, and herbed breadsticks. Seven of those.”

Cantor had no wish to hear the man’s entire inventory. “Are you Belnora?”

“That I am.”

“Did you see a disturbance earlier, outside your door?”

Belnora tucked his chin and frowned. “Who’s asking?”

“A friend of the lady.”

“You’re as big as she was small.”

Cantor turned and shut the door, sliding the bolt into its latch and moving the closed sign to the window.

“Here now. I’m not ready to close.”

“I’ll buy what you’ve got left.”

“Then I won’t have no day-old for the poor tomorrow.”

“I’ll pay for the goods but not take them.” His stomach rumbled. “However, I would like one of the herbed breadsticks to eat while we talk.”

The baker came around the counter to fetch a basket from one of his shelves. He handed it to Cantor and hustled back to his previous position. His face no longer expressed friendly interest.

Cantor sniffed a breadstick. The long golden roll smelled of sweet herbs and butter. He took a bite before putting the basket on the counter.

“I want to find my friends, the princess and her two dragon companions. I have no desire to cause you trouble. Did you see where they went?”

“It’s against the law to use portals.”

The baker’s announcement made Cantor choke. He coughed, then, slowing the rate of his chewing, he waited until his mouth was empty before he spoke. He’d never heard of a law against realm walking.

“Are you saying my friends went through a portal?”

“I didn’t say anything about your friends. And I’m not likely to, even with the door shut. That’ll be four traps and eighty-nine pins.”

Cantor felt his eyes widen. He surveyed the man’s leftover baking. “That’s an awful lot for this little bit.”

“There’s more in the back. You didn’t let me finish the list, but you did say you’d buy the lot. Four traps, eighty-nine pins.”

Counting out the coins into Belnora’s outstretched palm, Cantor felt he’d been bilked. “I suppose in the morning you’ll charge the poor as well.”

“Of course. But they’ll pay the day-old price. You’re paying today’s value.”

The man’s self-satisfied smirk riled Cantor’s usual calm. “If I weren’t on important business, it would do me a great pleasure to deal with you as a realm walker is prone to deal with double-dealers.”

“You don’t worry me none. You came here by breaking the law. Came through a portal, didn’t cha?” Belnora laughed through sneering lips. “You can’t trouble me.”

With a quickness and dexterity that left the baker with his mouth hanging open, Cantor smacked the underside of the man’s hand, sending the coins into the air. He snatched them before they could fall again to Belnora’s palm. With a deliberate motion, he plucked the value of one breadstick from the pile and placed it on the counter.

“I paid you as to our agreement.” Cantor smiled as he dropped the coins back in his purse and pulled the drawstring. “I then discovered I dealt with an unhonorable man. You will not profit from my purse in this way.”

His eyes came back to the baker’s face as he tucked his money into his tunic. “I’d not make any effort to raise a fuss. My traveling companions are righteous.”

Claiming righteousness tied an ordinary man directly to Primen, and in that association, the man could call upon the power of Primen. It was an old-fashioned term, but still held in awe by some.

The man blustered, but Cantor had had enough of his company. He stepped out into the street half lit by dusk. Some of the pale buildings caught and reflected the burnished copper of the sunset. Few people lingered on the street.

The skin on Cantor’s arms raised goose bumps in response to a sudden change in the atmosphere. He squinted as he examined every inch of this street crossing. He spied the ripple, heard the whoosh, and sighed as a portal eased open.

Before Cantor could determine the whereabouts of the other side, Totobee-Rodolow stepped through. Jesha jumped from the dragon’s head, and Cantor caught the furry creature as she hit his chest.

Craning his neck, Cantor tried to catch a glimpse of Totobee-Rodolow. “Where’s Bixby?”

“She’s coming, darling,” Totobee-Rodolow answered with a lilt of laughter in her tone. “She’s found an old friend.”

Just then, Rollygon stumbled through the portal, impelled by Bixby, who entered Derson with a face like a thundercloud. One step behind her was Tegan.

“Oh, good,” said Rollygon. “Cantor’s here. I can’t wait to tell him about Tegan.”

“What about Tegan?” asked Cantor in a low growl.

“He’s a realm walker.”

Cantor’s chin snapped up. “He is?”

Totobee-Rodolow laughed. “Quite a surprise, isn’t it?”

“Quite,” echoed Cantor. “What an extraordinary coincidence.”

“I doubt that.” Totobee-Rodolow patted Bixby’s shoulder, nudging her away from the portal and Tegan. “I don’t believe in coincidences.” She smiled. “Shall we retire to the hotel? Tomorrow is another day. One bound to be full of journeys, explorations, and surprises.”

Bixby had been standing on tiptoes, looking over and around anything in her way. “Where is Bridger?”

“Out looking for you. We split up to find you quickly.”

Her expression shifted to one of concern. “Is anything wrong?”

He stared at her. A lot was wrong. Should he remind her they were about to be invaded by aliens who would strip them of their resources? He could recount the tales they read in the Library of Lyme about these plant-covered people ravaging the land, pillaging the towns, and massacring the populace. And that was just the external threat. The infighting and corruption in the ranks of the guild added to the pile of what was wrong.

Swallowing his retort, Cantor sighed. “We spoke to the curator at the museum. Dukmee and Chomountain have come, retrieved the artifact, and gone.”

Totobee-Rodolow’s face didn’t flinch. Her charming expression remained. “Just as I said, journeys, explorations, and surprises.”

She took Tegan’s arm. “Come with us, dear boy. You’re bound to be entertained. Perhaps even enlightened. I, for one, shall enjoy the playing out of this remarkable set of circumstances.”

Bixby smiled at Cantor and took his arm. “You know, this spot still smells of bath oil.”

His lips twitched. “Indeed, it does.”

“We’ll find them.” The light touch of her hand on his arm felt reassuring. They made a good team.

He nodded. “Or they’ll find us.”