Noxspire greeted them with a noise that made their ears ring. After the quiet streets of Mirtarind's middle tier, after the monotonous clatter of the magic train's wheels, this city was deafening. Merchants shouting praises of their wares right on the platform, baggage carts rumbling over cobblestones, conductors' whistles, the neighing of horses that, it turned out, were still used here alongside magical carriages, and above it all, a low, vibrating hum that seemed to come from the air itself. The hum of magic that saturated every stone of this ancient city.
Nox tightened his grip on Lin's hand and pulled her along, pushing through the crowd. The people here were different, not like those in Ravnes or even the middle tier. Richly dressed aristocrats in fur trimmed coats, despite the warm weather, walked surrounded by servants carrying their luggage. Students in robes of various colors, with faculty crests on their chests, conversed animatedly as they walked. Mages in traveling cloaks with hoods hiding their faces moved silently, and the crowd parted before them, sensing the power emanating from them. And everywhere one looked, towers rose. Pointed, round, square, connected by bridges hanging at dizzying heights, they pierced the sky, and on their spires burned magical lights that did not go out even during the day.
«Beautiful,» Lin whispered, craning her neck. «Like a fairy tale.»
«Dangerous,» Nox answered, not sharing her delight. «Someone always dies in fairy tales. Stay close.»
They left the station onto a huge square paved with light stone, in the center of which a fountain played. Not an ordinary water fountain, but a magical one, streams of colored light shot upward, intertwined, scattered into sparks, and gathered again into a single flow. Around the fountain sat people, eating, drinking, laughing, and no one paid attention to the two children lost in this sea of unfamiliar faces. Nox looked around, trying to get his bearings. Sylvana had said the tavern was called «Three Candles» and was located somewhere near the academy, in the quarter where craftsmen and small traders lived. But the academy was visible from everywhere, huge, on a hill, and they just needed to walk toward it, and then ask for directions.
«Hey, you! Children!»
Nox turned around, instinctively pushing Lin behind him. A man in city guard uniform was approaching them with quick steps, a tall uniform with silver buttons and a wide belt from which a club hung. His face was not mean, rather concerned, and Nox relaxed slightly but did not take his hand from his belt, where his mother's dagger lay in one of the pockets.
«Where are you from? Where are your parents? Children should not walk alone in the city, especially around the station. There is a lot of riffraff here.»
Nox looked at the guard and made a decision in a split second. He was tired of lying. He was tired of pretending. He would simply tell the truth, or rather the part of it that would not give away their secret.
«We are orphans, sir. We came from Mirtarind. We are looking for the tavern «Three Candles.» We were told there might be work for my sister and a place to sleep. We have nowhere else to go.»
The guard frowned, examining them. His gaze lingered on Nox's scars, on Lin's worn but clean clothes, on their tense but unafraid faces. He had seen many street children during his service, and most of them looked different: hunted, dirty, with empty eyes. These two were different. They had a core.
«Orphans, eh. From Mirtarind. And straight to Noxspire, to the academy. You want the boy to be admitted to study?»
Nox said nothing, neither confirming nor denying. The guard grunted.
«Fine, none of my business. «Three Candles» is in the Coppersmith Quarter, over there, beyond that bridge, and then left. Ask for Marta, she is the owner. If she likes you, maybe she will take you in. If not, go back to the station, there is a shelter for people like you there. Free, but the conditions, you understand.»
«Thank you, sir.»
«Go on, then. And stay out of trouble. They are strict about that in Noxspire.»
He turned and walked back, and Nox and Lin moved in the direction he had indicated. The bridge turned out to be wide, made of stone, spanning a narrow but swift river that flowed from the mountains and divided the city into two parts. From the bridge, there was a view of the academy, and Nox stopped for a moment, looking at it. It was even larger than it had seemed from the station. Black walls, tall towers, spires reaching into the clouds, and above it all, an invisible but palpable dome of magical protection that made Nox's skin tingle slightly. Beyond those walls, he would spend the coming years. There, he would become stronger. There, his true path would begin.
«Let us go,» Lin said, tugging his sleeve. «You can stare later. First, find the tavern. I am hungry, I want to sleep, and anyway.»
The Coppersmith Quarter turned out to be a labyrinth of narrow streets lined with low but solid houses of gray stone. It smelled of smoke from forge furnaces, hot metal, and something sour, like vinegar. From open workshop doors came the clang of hammers, the hiss of iron cooling in water, the shouts of apprentices. The people here were simple, rough, but businesslike, and they paid almost no attention to the two children walking down the street.
The «Three Candles» tavern was found at the end of a dead end alley. It was a two story building with a crooked sign on which were indeed depicted three candles burning with an uneven, flickering light. The windows were shuttered, the door massive, oak, with iron hinges. Nox pushed it, and it creaked open.
Inside, it was dark, stuffy, and smelled of sour beer, old wood, and something fried that immediately made Nox's stomach clench. Behind the counter stood a woman. Large, big boned, with a face etched with wrinkles and gray hair pulled into a tight bun. She was wiping mugs with a dirty rag and seemed not to notice the newcomers, but Nox could feel her assessing them with every movement, every glance from under her brows.
«Closed,» she grunted without looking up. «Come back in the evening.»
«We are not here to drink,» Nox said. «Sylvana sent us. She said you owe her a debt.»
The woman froze. The mug in her hand stopped halfway to the shelf. She slowly raised her head and looked at Nox. Her eyes were small, dark, tenacious, like a rat that lives in a warehouse and knows every corner, every crack, every piece of cheese.
«Sylvana, is it. The witch.» She said the word not with disgust, not with fear, but matter of factly, as if talking about a baker or a washerwoman. «And where is she herself? Why did she send me two pups instead of coming in person?»
«She stayed in Mirtarind. She had business. She said you would help us. Give us shelter and work for my sister. And I will enter the academy.»
Marta, for it was indeed she, burst out laughing. Her laugh was hoarse, barking, like a crow's caw.
«Enter the academy! Do you hear that, people? A street boy, with no family, no money, no recommendations, wants to enter Noxspire! They will not even let you through the door, pup. The children of dukes, counts, and the wealthiest merchants study there, not ragamuffins from the slums.»
Nox did not answer. He just stood and looked at her, and there was something in his gaze that made Marta fall silent. She narrowed her eyes, examining him more closely, and her face slowly changed. The mockery faded, the contempt faded, leaving only tenacious, studying attention.
«Shadow,» she said finally. «I can feel it. Barely, you hide it well, but I am old, you cannot fool me. And the girl. There is something else coming from her. Cold. Empty.» She turned her gaze to Lin, and her eyes widened. «The Abyss. Holy mother, the girl carries the Abyss. Sylvana, what have you gotten yourself into this time.»
She came out from behind the counter, walked to the door, bolted it, and turned to the children. Now there was no mockery in her eyes, but something else. Interest? Concern? Nox could not tell.
«Sit down. Both of you. Tell me everything. From the beginning. What happened to Sylvana, why you are here alone, and who is hunting you.»
They sat at the nearest table. Marta brought three mugs of something hot, smelling of herbs and honey, and a plate of bread and cheese. Lin attacked the food, and Nox began to speak. He spoke for a long time, trying not to leave out anything important: the slums, the snake, the awakening of Shadow, Sylvana, the training, the hunter, the Harbinger, the battle on the empty street, and the escape. When he got to the dragon and the awakening of the dragon blood, Marta stopped chewing and stared at him without blinking.
«Dragon blood. In the Endragon bloodline. I have heard the legends, but I thought they were just tales aristocrats tell to flatter their egos. But it turns out to be true. The Shadow Dragons exist.»
«You knew our bloodline?» Lin asked, looking up from her food.
«I knew it. Your mother, Ariadne, I knew personally. She used to come here, to this tavern, many years ago when she was still studying at the academy. Sylvana brought her. They were friends, despite the age difference. Your mother was an amazing woman, girl. Strong, proud, with such fire in her eyes that everyone around her seemed dull. She wore the Abyss the way others wear a cloak, lightly and naturally, and no one dared to contradict her.»
Lin listened, barely breathing. Nox could see the silver sparks igniting in her gray eyes, as if the Abyss inside her was responding to the memories of her mother.
«And our father?» he asked. «Did you know him?»
«Dorian? Of course. He was older than Ariadne, already an established mage, heir to the First House. Handsome as a demon, and just as dangerous. When they met, it was like the collision of two elements. Everyone said the union was doomed, that Shadow and the Abyss could not exist together, that they would destroy each other. And they went and proved everyone wrong. They had two children. They built a home where love reigned. And they died protecting you.»
Marta fell silent, looking into her mug. Then she raised her gaze to Nox, and there was steel in her eyes.
«I will help you. Not because I owe Sylvana, though that too. Because I promised Ariadne that if anything happened to her, I would look after her children. I could not find you back then, after they died. The Moon Goddess covered your tracks well. But now you are here, and I will keep my promise. The girl will stay with me. She will help with the chores, wash dishes, clean, wait on customers. Hard work, but honest. And you, boy, will go to the academy. And you will get in. I will help with that.»
«How? Do you have connections?»
«Connections? I have something better. Knowledge. I know how this academy works, I know who makes the decisions, and I know who to pressure. But first, you must show that you are worthy. Tomorrow morning, you will go to the gates of Noxspire and demand a meeting with the headmistress. Lady Morvane. You will say you have a message from Sylvana. That will be enough to get you inside. And then everything depends on you.»
Nox nodded. He did not know who Lady Morvane was, nor did he understand how simply mentioning Sylvana's name could open the doors of the continent's most prestigious academy to him. But he trusted Marta. She had known his mother. She had been Sylvana's friend. And she had promised to help.
«Now go to sleep. Both of you. Tomorrow is a long day.»
Marta led them to a small room on the second floor, just under the roof. There were two narrow beds, a table and a chair, and from the window, a patch of sky and the spire of one of the academy's towers could be seen, glowing in the rays of the setting sun. Lin immediately collapsed onto the bed and closed her eyes, and Nox stood by the window for a long time, looking at that spire and thinking about what awaited him tomorrow.
He did not know if he would succeed. He did not know if they would accept him, a rootless boy from the slums, into an academy where the children of aristocrats studied. But he knew one thing: he would fight. To the end. Because somewhere out there, far away, Sylvana was waiting for him. Because Lin believed in him. Because in his veins flowed the blood of dragons, of Shadow Dragons, and they never gave up.