Page 32 of Kingdom of Dance

Alonse shrugged. “I don’t know as there are any. The magic community is pretty tight in Entolia. Not like some other places, from what I hear. I guess there are some who don’t fall in line, but I don’t think they tend to hang about. They probably go elsewhere.”

“So he met a dead end there?” Zinnia asked, not sure whether to be gratified by this information or disappointed not to have found a new lead.

“I didn’t say that,” Alonse replied. He glanced around and lowered his voice. “There aren’t a lot of enchanters among petty thieves, least not in this area. Those with magic can do much better for themselves. But apparently—and mind, I’d never heard this before, so I don’t know if it’s true—there’re a few folks that some of the magic-users from the Enchanters’ Guild pay to kind of…keep a finger on the pulse.”

Zinnia considered this. “Informants among the city’s scumbags? Used by enchanters?”

Like her own sources. It made sense. The elevated status of an enchanter would probably be just as prohibitive to discreet inquiries as her royal title. And they would want to know what was happening in the city’s underworld, and what threats they might be called upon to face.

Alonse winced. “Not so loud with that word, child, I beg you.”

“Sorry,” said Zinnia absently. “I didn’t think the scumbags would take offense at being called scumbags.”

The old man scoffed. “Not that word. The other.”

He shuddered, and Zinnia let out a laugh. He was right, though. She should know better than to throw the word informant around. That would get the two of them a beating before she could blink.

“Where can I find these…scumbags?” she asked, with the hint of a grin.

Alonse shook his head. “They’re no fit company for you, young one. Go home, lay your head in whatever place it belongs.”

“I thought you promised to help me if I ever needed it,” said Zinnia beseechingly. “And I need this information. Desperately.”

Alonse sucked on a tooth, looking troubled. Zinnia remained silent, waiting hopefully. These so-called informants might be the link she’d been seeking for over a year.

“I don’t know for sure where they are,” said Alonse at last, his voice gruff. “But the Fernedellian was directed to the docks. An old warehouse just west of the Belna markets.”

Zinnia groaned. “Of course he was.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Alonse jumped quickly on this sign of dismay. “It’s no fit place for the likes of you, especially after nightfall.”

“Thanks, Alonse,” said Zinnia, not responding to the warning. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She reached down her top, fishing out a single silver coin that hadn’t been in the pouch, but instead was slipped right against her skin.

“No, child, don’t give it to me,” said Alonse, raising his hands and backing away slightly. “I can’t take coin from my favorite urchin. ’Sides, I’d just spend it on drink anyway.”

He spoke the last words cheerfully, and Zinnia smiled back at him. She felt sorry for the old rascal, but she couldn’t help liking him. And she appreciated his discretion—he was no fool, and there was no way he thought for a moment that she was an urchin.

A young man whistled as Zinnia slipped the coin back into its hiding spot, and Alonse glared him down.

“Keep moving, you useless layabout. What would your mother say?”

The man hurried on, looking chastened, and Zinnia exchanged a grin with her protector.

“Ah, it’s a sorry old world,” said Alonse cheerfully, giving her one final wink before he ambled back into the tavern. Even from outside, Zinnia could hear the cries of welcome that greeted him. Alonse was popular with everyone, from what she’d seen. “Who’s buying my next round then?” he asked brightly, as the door swung closed behind him.

With a sigh, Zinnia pulled her hood even lower over her face and turned toward home. She would never have seen this part of the city at all if it wasn’t for Idric’s intervention in her life. And she knew that everyone in her world at the castle would be horrified to think of her setting foot in such an area. But for all the city’s dangers, she had come to appreciate the value to be found even here. Men like Alonse were dotted amongst the scoundrels. And even the scumbags had their stories, she was sure.

The human spark, as Dannsair and Reka had said. It was in every single one of them, inexplicable, unquenchable, and so valuable even the dragons craved it.

A sorry old world? Perhaps. But this corner of it was part ofherkingdom, and she wanted to save it from the threat Idric posed.

Shadow-like, she passed through the quietening streets, attracting little notice as she kept to more trusted paths. When she reached the small gate through which she’d entered, she was relieved to find the same man on duty. He waved her through, not asking for her letter again. It was a good thing, too, since it was an old one, and she didn’t want him to look too closely. She wouldn’t be able to get a more recent version until Elizabeth returned from her leave.

“Where’s your friend?” the man grunted, glancing behind her. “Didn’t he catch up with you?”

“My friend?” she asked, trying to speak like a man.

“Fellow who followed you through. He came running up from the pier down there, said he’d fallen asleep in the boat.”

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