Miracles Can't Settle Debts

Wood popped rhythmically in the brick hearth, casting flickering ember shadows across the crowded tavern. The heavenly scent of maple-smoked beef fat hung thick in the air, and Maria’s grin couldn’t be wider.

She happily chewed another slice of the smoked beef. It was tender, rich, and salted to absolute perfection.

“Maria,” Kaelan muttered. His dark eyes darted toward the corner of the room, scanning three lingering stares that had hovered over their table since they sat down. “Eat faster.”

“But Kaelan, the wood-oven flavor is truly a blessing from the heavens,” Maria said as she reached for another piece. “And Thomas was so kind to offer his tab. Surely we can savor it.” Her shoulders relaxed for the first time since the ordeal in the town square.

Kaelan’s grip tightened on his wooden mug. Before he could speak, the young woman working the floors stepped up to their table. She was the same tired-eyed woman Thomas had tried to charm the night prior with flowery language. She glanced at the mountain of empty plates in front of Maria.

“You’ve got quite the appetite for a Sister,” she said. “Though I suppose traveling with that silver-tongued rogue would make anyone seek comfort in a hot meal.” She glanced at the empty seat beside them. “He’s not joining tonight?”

Maria gave her a soft smile. “He’s delivering our donations to the town clinic right now so we can prepare for our journey to the Holy Capital.”

The server paused. A dry chuckle escaped her lips. “Delivering donations? To the clinic? He told you that, did he?” She shook her head. “He has a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. Years as a court mage probably built that up. Or ex-court mage, I guess. He’d probably correct me if he were here.”

Kaelan’s eyes narrowed. “How long have you known him?”

The woman shrugged. “Long enough.” She lowered her gaze. “Back in his glory days, before any vice took hold, the Royal Academy called him The Scarlett Brand.”

Kaelan’s posture went rigid. “That renowned court mage was him? Word of his exploits were known throughout most of the kingdom.”

Maria held a finger on her chin. “I do recall some villagers talking about a powerful fire mage back when I was kid.”

“How the hell did he end up out here?”

“Wish I could say.” The woman sighed. “But now he’s just… Thomas. A man who lives in the cracks, running before his vices can catch up to him.”

As she walked away to attend to a shouting patron, the rough chatter from a neighboring table of adventurers drifted over. Two burly men in scratched leather armor. Their voices were loud and heavy with the scent of ale.

“I’m telling you, Everhart was down at the western stables boasting about a ‘killing’ he made recently,” the scarred one grumbled. “Said he had enough coin to buy a carriage to the coast.”

“The slippery bastard,” the other spat. “Wonder if his debts will catch up with him before he slips past, they’ll take more than he owes.” The two men burst with laughter.

Maria’s hand hovered over her plate, the smoked meat suddenly losing its flavor. She looked at Kaelan as her chest tightened. “Back in the village, rumors would also get quite out of hand.” She forced a chuckle.

Kaelan didn't answer. His face said what she couldn’t.

The server returned a moment later, sliding a small slip of paper onto the table. “Your total. Compliments of the kitchen’s best cut.”

“Thomas said to put it on his tab,” Maria said.

The server’s friendly expression flipped into a flat, unblinking one.

“His tab?” she scoffed. “Thomas hasn't had a tab in this house since last spring. Hard enough trying to get him to pay up what he owes us.”

Silence stretched over the table.

Maria’s legs felt heavier than they had after casting high-tier spells. “I’m sorry for the trouble,” Maria whispered. She and Kaelan handed her what little coin remained between the two.

“It’s not your fault, sister,” the server said. “Just… be careful out there on the road tonight.”

Kaelan stood up, his seat pulling attention with a loud skid. He didn't look at Maria, but his voice was flat and steady. “We’re heading to the northern gate.”

The two stepped out of the tavern’s warmth and onto the clammy cobblestone street. The wind howled through the narrow alleyways, carrying the sharp scent of the coming storm. Maria pulled down on her tunic’s sleeves. Her quiet, stubborn hope fighting against a reality that seemed almost inevitable in the whispering night.

***

Under the flickering glow of a dangling iron lantern, they waited at the northern gates. Maria would’ve normally found the clanging bells of the town chapel soothing, but instead she tensed with every chime.

Their meeting time had arrived under the cloud covered night. But there was no carriage, no driver, and no Thomas.

Kaelan eased out a deep sigh. “..We were played.”

Maria’s chest ached. More than when she’d overuse her mana. “Perhaps he was just delayed. Perhaps the clinic took longer than expected.”

“People lie, Maria,” Kaelan said. “Especially silver-tongued court mages with debt collectors on their heels.” His eyes scanned the dark rooftops and the empty shadows ahead of them.

Her gaze lingered. She had wanted so desperately to believe Thomas’s charming vows, to believe that a man who wanted to heal a clinic could keep his word.

“Let’s check the stables,” Kaelan said. Enough to light just a match of hope within Maria.

Together, they walked toward the sputtering torches of the gate’s carriage stables, where a quiet stable hand stood watch.

"Excuse me," Kaelan asked. "Has a carriage been arranged to leave tonight?"

The man frowned as he looked at Kaelan’s dark hood, then at Maria’s gentle, tired expression. "Tonight? No. There wasn't one scheduled."

A nearby gate guard snorted upon overhearing. "Carriage? That old silver-haired mage said he was leaving town tonight, but I never heard anything about passengers. He packed his bags, but he didn't head out this gate. Slipped off back into the lower quarters an hour ago."

Now, there was no room left for hope. Thomas had lied. Kaelan’s doubts, and even Maria’s own hesitations that she refused to acknowledge, were right.

Kaelan led Maria back into the shadows of the stone archway. Only the rustling wind spoke in between. They walked back toward the narrow, unpaved side streets branching off the main road.

Maria watched Kaelan kneel in the moist clay of a dark alleyway. She expected a scowl, but instead, he held a focused expression. Like the hyper-vigilant professional assassin she had met at her orphanage. His fingers brushed against a patch of mud bordering the stone foundations of a cramped dwelling.

"He turned back into the city," Kaelan muttered. He pointed to a deep boot-print pressed into the slick muck of the alley.

“How do you know it’s him?”

“A man’s boots speak volume. It’s a good habit to learn to listen.”

“And a woman’s boots?”

“They do as well. Yours are two sizes too large for your own good.”

“It’s not polite to tell a girl she was large feet.” Maria knelt beside him and took a look of her own. It just seemed like a normal boot print.

"He's avoiding the main roads,” Kaelan continued. “His cutting through the slums. And the stride is uneven. He's carrying something heavy."

The clinic's donations…

Kaelan stood. He looked down at Maria who still lingered low.

"Come on," he said quietly.

Maria fell into step beside him as they turned away from the desolate gate and deep towards the maze of the town's poorest back streets. "Where are we going?"

"To find him," Kaelan replied. His dark eyes were fixed on the shadows of the cramped tenements ahead. “He owes us the coin for our travels.” He paused, clearing his throat as he adjusted his daggers. "...To get enough back that we can continue the journey.”

“Yes. And?”

“ ...And return the rest to the clinic,” he muttered.

Maria nodded. A soft, warm smile touched her lips despite the cold wind. Her wobbly legs found a renewed strength as she walked beside Kaelan into the dark, cramped alleys of the town. 

Thomas had some explaining to do.