A few short hours later, I crossed the border into Avenia. Considering all the effort it had taken me to get this far, it was a rather unremarkable moment. I’d come north of the swamplands and stayed away from any roads or trails, so the border was marked only by a nearby stake in the ground.
The closest town of any size was Dichell, a pigpen for humans and one of the rougher places in Avenia. But it was where I needed to begin.
I left Mystic in a dense thicket of woods outside Dichell. There was a risk that he’d be stolen from me here, but he’d definitely be stolen if I brought him into the town. I made sure he was near some grass and had a small spring for water. Then I traveled the rest of the way on foot.
Due to the street gangs that patrolled the darkness, nights in Dichell were fairly dangerous. But in the daytime the miscreants shrank into the shadows as the more honorable citizens took over. However, safety was never a guarantee at any time of day or night. Evening was approaching, but I was armed with both a knife and a sword. Hopefully, it would keep any trouble far from me. Besides, my destination was the church, which had always been left alone.
The church had played a significant role in my life four years ago. After I’d escaped the ship in Isel, it was here that the kind priest first suspected who I was. Eventually, my father came to see me and this is where we had agreed that I’d be stripped of my royal identity and become Sage the orphan. If I had returned to the castle with him, I’d probably be in the grave now with the rest of my family.
But when I approached, I was appalled at how much the church had fallen into disrepair. The rock steps I had scrubbed for meals and shelter were cracked and pitted and thorny weeds grew between them. Windows of the church were broken out, and even the heavy wooden front door was off a hinge, so it didn’t close entirely.
Maybe the church hadn’t been left alone after all. I wondered about the priest who had taken me in before, and what he must think about this. I was eager to speak with him. Hopefully he’d remember me and would offer his help again. It would take some creativity on my part to convince him, but in the end, he’d tell me how to find the pirates.
“Who are you?” a boy asked. He was sitting on the steps, playing with a rat, which he placed on his shoulder as he stood to greet me. Like most Avenian children he was little more than skin and bones, but he had a bright smile and dark blond hair, closer to the color mine had been when I’d dyed it as Sage. He looked to be ten or eleven, and wore clothes that hung crookedly on his thin frame. I wasn’t sure whether he’d stolen them or if they had been handed down from an older sibling. Regardless, they weren’t made for his body. The only exception was his shoes, which were in good repair and the exact size they should be.
I replied in an Avenian accent. “Is the priest of this church still here?”
“No.” He squinted at me. “Never seen you before. You from out of town?”
“I’ve never seen you before either,” I said. “So maybe you’re the one from out of town.”
That amused him. “My name is Fink. Well, that’s not really my name, but it’s what everyone calls me.”
“What’s your name, then?”
“Dunno. Everyone just calls me Fink.”
“Don’t you have anywhere else to go?”
“Not really. Why d’you want the priest?”
“A doctrinal question. What punishment does the Book of Faith recommend for a kid who’s being too nosy?”
Fink missed the point and only said, “You can’t ask him that because he’s dead. Got himself killed about four years ago.”
Dead? The news hit me like a blow to the chest. My world blurred, and I had to stare forward in silence until I could speak. “Are you sure?”
“I saw it myself.” Fink pointed to a grassy area in front of the church. “Right there, a pirate cut him down.”
I didn’t dare ask, but the word escaped me in a breath. “Why?”
He shrugged. “How would I know? I was just a kid then.”
No explanation was necessary. Four years ago, the priest who had given me shelter sent word to my brother that the prince was here. The messenger undoubtedly told others of the rumor. The priest was eventually convinced I was only an orphan boy, but if the pirates thought there was any possibility I was Jaron, they would have come here. I’d already left, but the priest paid the penalty intended for me.
“You all right?” Fink asked.
I wasn’t. It was hard to breathe. Feelings of sadness and anger flooded me, choking me. “Who was the pirate?” I asked. “The one who killed him.”
Fink shook his head. “I’m not telling you that.”
I grabbed Fink’s collar and shoved him against the church wall. “What’s his name?”
Fink looked nervous, but Avenian boys are used to getting roughed up so he kept calm. “Why should I tell you?” he asked.
I reached into the satchel tied around my waist and withdrew a garlin, probably a month’s worth of money for him. “You’ll tell me because you’re hungry.”
He held out his hand. I put the coin on his palm, but pinched it firmly between my fingers. Fink glanced both directions before he leaned forward and whispered, “Devlin did it. But you won’t find him in these parts because he’s the pirate king now. You probably don’t want to find him at all, unless you want the same end as the priest.”