Luck in the Shadows

stealing to his dagger. Alec jerked back instinctively and the man laughed. Just as Seregil was about to spring to his aid, however, he heard the man speak and realized this must be one of the soldiers who'd accosted the boy earlier that day.
    "Hey, you sing good in there," the man exclaimed. His tone seemed friendly enough, but he hadn't released his grip on Alec's cloak. "You sing more for me now maybe?"
    "I've got to get back in." Stepping away as far as he could, Alec pulled the harp string from his tunic and waved it like a pass. "My master needs this. I'll be in trouble if I make him wait."
    "Trouble?" The man squinted at the string. "No trouble for you, Cavish's man-child. Go sing some more for the fat mayor and my master!" Turning Alec loose, he sent him on his way with a resounding slap on the back.
    Letting out a soundless sigh of relief, Seregil waited until the way was clear, then skirted back through the shadows to reappear from the direction of the mayor's privy.
    It was after midnight before they returned to the Three Fishes. Nonetheless, Seregil insisted on making ready to leave at first light.
    "You did well tonight," he said as he finished strapping up his pack. "That was quick thinking, with the window."
    Alec grinned happily at the praise and continued checking over his new equipment. Master Radly had included an oilskin bow case and a covered quiver in the price of the bow, to which Alec had added a score of arrows, linen twine and wax for bowstrings, and packets of red and white fletching.
    Seregil was just turning to say something more when they both were startled by the sound of someone pounding up the stairs. Micum Cavish burst into the room.
    Panting, he said, "I don't know what you did this time, Seregil, but a pack of Plenimaran marines are on their way here right now!"
    Somewhere below they heard a door bang open, then the sounds of heavy feet.
    "Grab your things, Alec!" Seregil ordered, throwing back the shutters.
    A moment later Tildus and a dozen Plenimaran soldiers burst into the room, only to find it dark and empty.

6 Alec Earns His Bow
    From the inn window the three of them dropped thirty feet into water cold enough to knock the breath from their lungs. Alec floundered, gasping as he tried to hang on to his gear and keep his head above water.
    A strong hand closed over his wrist; Micum hauled him to a handhold on the slimy pilings supporting the building.
    "Quiet!" Seregil whispered against his ear.
    Working their way back to the shallows, they crawled out onto a narrow mud bank and huddled there as the sounds of a violent search rang out overhead.
    "I doubt you two will be welcome again at the Fishes," Micum whispered through chattering teeth.
    It was a miserably cold vigil they kept, and dangerous. At one point several marines found their way under the building, forcing the three fugitives to turtle back into the icy water until they were gone. It was over an hour before Micum judged that it was safe to go.
    They made a sorry trio as they staggered from the shadows of the tavern. Covered in mud, their hair and
    clothing stiffened into fantastic configurations, they moved as fast as their numbed legs would allow, heading for the market square.
    Micum led the way to the Temple of Astellus that stood next to the Fisherman's Guildhall on the square. It was a plain, windowless structure, but the large double doors at its front were elaborately carved with boats and water creatures. The lintel above displayed the stylized wave symbol of Astellus the Traveler.
    By custom, the doors of the temple were never locked, and they slipped inside without challenge.
    Alec had never been inside the place before, though he'd passed it often enough. The plastered walls of the central room glowed with fanciful underwater scenes and icons showing several of the patron deity's more noteworthy labors.
    Near the central shrine a young acolyte dozed at his post. Passing quietly, they found their way to a door at the back of the temple and into the storeroom beyond.
    Offerings, sacks of food for the priests, and oddments of furniture were stacked carelessly about. Alec sat down on an upended crate while Micum cast about, looking for something.
    "Isn't it over to the left more?" asked Seregil.
    "I've got it." Micum pulled open a trapdoor in the floor.
    Looking over his shoulder, Alec saw a ladder descending into the darkness. Cold, earth-smelling air rose up the shaft.
    "Let's hope the mayor neglected to