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Back Golden Age Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. CONTENTS
  5. MAP
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  70. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The journey back was uneventful, with Chloe examining her new amulet as she walked. The usual beggars cried out to her when they thought they were out of her bodyguard’s earshot. The stench of refuse and human waste rose from the sides of every street and alley of the poor quarter.

A particularly persistent street urchin came up and grabbed Chloe’s chiton. ‘The curious sailor is at the House of Algar,’ he said, looking at her with wild eyes as she tried to fend him off. Tomarys sent him sprawling with a shove.

The words were so strange she assumed the boy must be taken by madness. She thought nothing more of the encounter.

The one stab of fear came when she passed the palace guards and wondered if they would take note of her new amulet; it would be difficult not to notice it. But as Tomarys said, sometimes the best hiding place was in plain sight.

They passed through unchallenged. Chloe was one step closer to freedom.

37

37

Dion was impatient for news as he helped the crew beach the Anoraxis on the harbor shore. He had been gone for more than a week; at any moment the sun king could return.

After fulfilling his duties, he bid farewell to his captain and with his bow and quiver in hand left the harbor, heading out the gate to make his way into the city. Skirting the bazaar, following the now familiar streets to the palace quarter, Dion approached the guesthouse. He knew Algar would ask him for more money but the paymaster had told him to come back the next day to collect his wages.

Dion spoke to his well-dressed host, who grumbled but agreed to grant him another day. He then looked anxiously for Anoush and saw the boy sitting on a low wall near the House of Algar, munching on a handful of raisins.

‘Anoush.’ Dion frowned. ‘Not watching the palace?’

‘Master!’ His eyes widened. ‘You’re back!’ He leaped to his feet and ran over, tilting his head to look up at him as he hopped from foot to foot. ‘I have news. I passed the girl your message yesterday.’

‘How did she react?’

‘I do not think she understood. I only had a short time to speak before the big guard with her knocked me away . . . But I am sure she heard me. She was confused, I think.’

Dion cursed as he looked away. If she knew he was here and that help might be coming, the knowledge could make his task easier.

‘But there is more.’

Dion’s eyes shot once more to the young boy. ‘What?’

‘She regularly goes to the abandoned arena in the poor quarter. She is probably there right now.’

‘Alone?’

‘No, the guard goes with her.’

‘What is she doing there?’

‘I did not follow them inside. I only saw that they came out again some time later.’