Chapter 5: Street Child
Underfoot woke up quickly to find Lightfinger tugging on her shoulder. It was still dark. “It is time to go, little one.” He said, he had the bag already over his shoulder and had whisked the blanket off of her as soon as she was awake. He had it folded and tucked away before she was on her feet. Underfoot could hear the sounds of workers on the far end of the Warehouse, Lightfinger tapped his mouth and made a sign indicating that she should keep quiet and follow him. She looked up at him, surprised. And then followed him back out the hole in the back wall and under the fence.
“Today,” he said. “I will try to make some friends and maybe pick up a few necessities. We’ll be sleeping here again tonight. See if you can find something to do.” He sized her up. “I might look in to getting you some better clothes so you will be somewhat more presentable.” And he whirled off, he had vanished before she could even protest.
She had never had free time before, and here she found herself in the middle of a strange city by herself, without anything she was supposed to be doing or anything that she knew she wanted to be doing. She stood there for a while, just looking around, wondering what to do with herself. She was a little worried that if she wandered too far she would get lost. But her innate curiosity and the growing sense of restlessness and boredom caught up with that fear and surpassed it. She wandered off into the city.
Apparently they had ended up in a more trade-oriented part of the city, most of the buildings were warehouses and manufacturing plants. Smoke rolled out of tall chimneys in some of the huge buildings, and large carts rolled down the street. Often she found herself jostled from side to side by the people bustling to get too and from their places of work in various plants. The prominent smells were those of burning wood, melting metal and rushing people. The streets were crowded and she had to dodge around the traffic. She was a little hassled, and found herself resting with her back against a stone wall where she wouldn’t be in danger of getting run over for a while.
As she was standing there a hand touched her shoulder. She turned and saw that the hand belonged to a dirty boy who looked to be about the same age as she was though he was a good six inches taller. “Watcha up to?” He said, flashing a smoothly friendly grin.
She jumped a little backing away from him. “Staying out of the way.” She said, her voice tense with surprise.
“You’re new to the city, aintcha?” The boy said, cocking his head and looking at her funny.
“Yes,” she said biting her lip..
“So ya need som’ne to show ya the ropes,” he said, taking her hand and starting to pull her along. “Y’ll need to know how to make it in the city.”
“But I need to be back here tonight.” she said. “Well back there”. She pointed.
The boy smiled. “Don’t you worry about that, mate. We’ll take care of ya. You’ll be better off fer knowin how things work.” He pulled her away.
Underfoot wasn’t sure if she really could trust him, but he offered to help her and he seemed to know what he was doing. Even if he didn’t seem capable of talking properly. And it seemed he would keep hounding her until she went with him. “Okay.” she said
The boy dragged her out into the stream of traffic, pulling her along through the crowd, ducking under horses. He was almost run over by a couple wagons. He accidentally bumped into one of the more richly dressed people and stumbled on, calling curses after him as if it was the other man’s fault. Afterwards Underfoot noticed that he was tossing a bag of coins from hand to hand feeling its weight before he tucked it into his jacket.
“You just stole from that man.” Underfoot said, a touch of horror in her voice.
The boy looked back at her. “There ain’t much else we can do round here to survive.” He said with a shrug. “don’t worry. you’ll get the hang of things after a while.”
She kept her mouth closed. She had never seen someone steal before, but the books in Sternbrow’s house had spoken a lot about ethics and what was right and wrong. She had thought that the ideals in the books were good. And Sternbrow had railed on about thieves who stole things in the village. And she had heard about the punishments that they faced. But she was just now starting to think of things differently. There really wasn’t much of a reason not too. And here she was in the middle of a city that wouldn’t give her a second thought. And with her stomach grumbling, no where to stay, and no idea of how to get a better job, she found that she didn’t really have much objection to the idea of stealing. But the concept of money was merely theoretical to her. She didn’t understand why people handed each other pieces of copper, silver or gold and expected the other person to be willing to part with goods or services to earn them. But since it did work. . . she thought she could figure it out. “So you don’t have a job?” She asked.
“I has a job,” he said. “I per-suade people to part with their hard-earned cash to care fer us poor chillen. Even ifen they doesn’t want to” he said, flashing a charming grin which was missing a front tooth. “I outgrew begging a while back, it was too easy and less rewarding.”
“And less dangerous.” Underfoot added.
“Well, your’re just as likely to get beaten or robbed either way. Its just if you’re a thief you might get beaten by the guards, but you’ll also get better at getting away from those that would do you harm. You’ll soon learn the difference if you’re gonna live down here on the streets.” He said. “The whole world is against us, but we do our best to get by.” He said. “An ifen you stick with me, I’ll give you all the help I can.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because thas the way it works, I help you get started. I teach you how it works and then you help the rest of us ta keep from starvin.” he said. “And because you look like you wouldn’t last a day without help.”
She pulled away, stopping in the middle of the alley where she was. “I can take care of myself.” She crossed her arms and turned away. “And its not like I need your help, Lig. . . ” she hesitated for a moment. “My brother is taking care of me.”
“And he lives on the streets too?” the boy asked, coming over to her and putting an arm over her shoulder as she tried to shy away.
“He’s trying to find work.” She said softly.
“Ya wanna learn how to survive here?” He asked, looking her in the eyes. “When yer. . .Brother cuts you loose?” He asked, keenly cutting through her attempt at lying. “First lesson: you’re gonna have to learn how to lie better. The key is confidence, commit to whatever you say and other people will be more likely to believe you. Show the slightest hesitation or change your tone a little and you’ll be found out.”
She lowered her eyes and thought about it for a while. “I’m not sure I can do it.” She said at last.
The boy gave her a quick grin. “Ain’t no-one can’t lie good without some practice.” He patted her on the back and then pulled her down the street. His pace picking up. “Second lesson, and ya ain’t gonna need much teachin’ on this one: lookin’ sad an’ dirty earns money ifn you know how to do it right. Now I need ya to jus sit where I show ya and look poor an dirty. A lil cryin’ or beggin’ can get enough to make the difference between liven and dien.” He pulled her out into a brightly lit street that was wider and cleaner than any of the others that Underfoot had ever seen. There were people in fine, colorful clothing making their way towards a large building at the far end of the street. He led her to the foot of the wide staircase leading up into the building. “This’ere.” He said. “Is church. Rich people go here to make themselves feel better ’bout themselves. When they leave they’re more like to give money. But they only go twice a week. So ya gotta get it while ya can. So sit here and look sad. Hold this out when someone comes close.” And with that he pushed her down at the foot of the stairs and disappeared in the crowd before she could ask any questions. How was she supposed to get people to give her anything. She was worthless. No-one would want to give her anything.
Underfoot had read about church in Sternbrow’s library. It had always seemed like a far-away concept. The Outsider’s had no sway out beyond edge. Sure they were still worshiped. But that was so far from the hub that no-one ever saw any benefit to it. She wondered how it worked. Supposedly one gave money to the priests who used their magics to make requests of the outsiders on your behalf. And sometimes the things you asked for happened. She looked up at the front of the church. The massive stone structure was decorated with ornate sculptures and runic inscriptions glowed around the edges. It was certainly an impressive building. And something about it made her feel uneasy. But she was supposed to stay. So she did. She watched the people as they entered the building. None of them seemed to pay her any attention. Some were richly dressed, others only well dressed. But none of the people who approached the temple wore tatters or dirty clothing. Which made perfect sense to her. If the outsiders were going to help anyone it wouldn’t be a dirt-poor peasant.
It only took a few moments before the first coin fell into her hands. Surprised she looked up to find a old lady smiling down at her. “Buy yourself a new dress.” The old lady said, cupping Underfoot’s hand. “You look like you could use it.”
Underfoot didn’t know what to do, she looked down at the shining silver piece. Coin was as wide as her wrist. She sat there staring at it for a while. When a hand reached down and grabbed it from her.
“Good job.” The boy who had brought her here said. “Now don’t go showin’ it to everyone. They’ll see you have money so they won’t want to give you any more. When ya get some tuck it away. Also keeps other beggers from stealing it from you or beating you for it.”
He disappeared with the money, again leaving Underfoot with questions she wanted to ask.
There were indeed other beggers around. A few dirty souls lingered in ally-ways. None of them seemed brave enough to come as close as she was. But Underfoot didn’t really consider that. She was just happy that they left her alone. The trickle into the building slowed to a stop. The wrong feeling that Underfoot had grew stronger. She looked up at the building again. The bright runes on the side of the building pulsed with a shadowed light. Her heart began to race. She felt cold run down her veins, chilling her fingers, toes and spreading tendrils towards her chest. She wanted to run away from the building, but she couldn’t. She felt herself locked in place. Unable to move out of pure fear. The runes continued to pulse with inner light.
She didn’t know how long it lasted, but it seemed to last forever. When at last it was over she just collapsed at the foot of the stairs, gasping, still unable to move. The doors of the church swung open and people began to leave the building. Mostly they looked a little concerned by the fact that there was a sickly dirt-covered girl lying at the bottom of the steps and moved to walk as far away from her as they could. But a number of them tossed coins at her. But she still couldn’t pick them up. Everyone who came out of that building felt wrong, they all had an undefinable greyness around their edges.
One of the richly dressed men came up to her, in contrast to the greyness of the others he burned with a brilliant light. He helped her to sit up and offered her something to drink. The sip brought her back completely. It burned on it’s way down. “There you go.” He said. “We can’t have a poor girl dieing in front of the church.” He said this with an ironic smile as he helped her into a sitting position.
Some in the crowd came close, and with deference to the man supporting her pressed a large coin into her hand. And then there was a clattering as coins fell near her.
The shining man smiled down at her. His hair was medium length and sandy blond, he wore a neatly trimmed beard and light golden robes. But those were nothing to the golden shine of his skin and the bright blue light of his eyes. He smiled at her. “Are you all right?” He asked.
She nodded dumbly, still unable to talk from the twin shocks of the clenching darkness and now this burning light. She looked away to let her eyes clear. She had never seen anyone so. . . full of energy. And he was touching her. She twisted out of his grasp. He didn’t move, but still, despite her desire to run she found herself locked in place by the shear radiance that projected itself from this man. At last she managed to get ahold of her voice. “Thank you.” She kind of squeaked, and bowed. Again trying to move away.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” The man said, holding out a hand which now inexplicably held all the coins that had scattered as his feet. “Go on. Take it.” He said.
She felt a force compelling her to come forward and take the offering. She had not seen the man move an inch, had not seen the coins leave their places on the ground, but suddenly they were in his hand and no longer laying all over the smooth cobblestones. The other church-goers were dispersing. Without any word, the nobility all gave intrigued glances at her but they didn’t linger. As if there were some force driving them away in opposition to their natural curiosity. She reached out and took the coins. As she did so her hand touched the warm skin of the man in front of her. She felt a spark leap from his hand into her and shoot down her arm. And then the world exploded in a wash of light.