Senses pursuer

Turning away, Jodah again caught a fleeting glimpse of something darting around the corner, something that was watching him, something that pulled back as he approached. He walked toward the corner, but when he reached it, whatever it was that was watching had disappeared.

The last drop was a merchant’s shop, one that Jodah had visited time and again. Jodah was sure the merchant was not using the potions herself but rather selling them again, at inflated prices, to other victims and potential victims. Jodah would find the money in a wood box behind the main dwelling, near the midden, and leave the package in the box.

However, now he was sure he was being followed, but he did not know if his pursuer knew that he knew. It could not be the Night Watch—they blundered down the streets and alleys as if they owned the city. A cutpurse?

There were better targets elsewhere, even in these near- empty streets. A spy for the church? Mostly likely, Jodah decided. Some concerned citizen, probably, who was following him, ready to report any violation of the law to the church: like visiting a plague house.

Like carrying forbidden magics.

Jodah lengthened his pace, and now he heard footsteps as well behind him. Soft footfalls, like feet in slippers, taking two steps to his one, struggling to keep up.

He abandoned his intention of making the third drop, instead placing the package within his shirt. Jodah took a right at the next corner and then a right again. The footsteps kept up with him. He paused at an alleyway, then dodged down it, confident that his pursuer was behind him.

The alleyway was narrow and descended almost immediately down a flight of stone steps, their centers worn by the passage of many feet so that it looked as if the blocks themselves had melted. Archways littered both sides of the alley, with doors set deeply back from the stairs. Early upon his arrival in Ghed, Jodah had slept in such doorways. Now he pressed himself against a shadowed archway and awaited his pursuer.

He did not have long to wait. There was a long shadow from the entrance of the alley, that slowly moved toward him. The shadow diminished as it neared, until it was smaller than he was. Jodah nodded to himself—at least it was too short to be his ragged guardian angel. Slowly and carefully, Jodah’s pursuer walked right by him.

***

The Gathering Dark, Chapter 3