It’s a pity these clothes itch so badly, Perf thought to himself as he shambled along with the morning crowds, I might not mind being a beggar so much if it weren’t for that.

  Perf smiled to himself, a rarity for a beggar, and he quickly subdued the emotion. Such visible signs of happiness tended to get a beggar punched or kicked…or worse. A happy beggar was unnatural, and people hated things that were unnatural. Thankfully, no one noticed Perf’s brief laps from his solemn misery.

    The city wall of Serl seemed to grow taller as the crowed moved closer. The wall’s white stones from the nearby Serl mountains were streaked with gray at the top from the centuries of rain. Redish brown stains mingled with the gray every so often, marking a rusted anchor for the watch lanterns. The road rose slightly just before the city gate where it crossed the river Serl. The river flowed into the city from the back and then exited via an underground aqueduct set in the center of the city.

  The city of Serl, the Serl mountains, the river Serl, Perf cursed in his mind, I think the royal family’s taken things a bit too far. He gripped a small patch of his ragged clothes where a pouch had been stitched. At the moment it was full of sundry items and sealed shut to prevent anything from slipping out. If the city guard, or anyone with some common sense, saw what he carried, he’d be killed.

  Guards stood on either side of the city gate, stopping and checking the occasional passerby. For the most part the guards busied themselves with the merchants and performers and only paid any attention to beggars when they, the guards, were bored, or if a beggar drew the attention to him or herself. As it was, Perf made it through the gates without being stopped or abused and he found a nice spot in the Main Square to sit down and look miserable in.

  The merchants and performers set up around the beggars, occasionally kicking one or two beggars out of the way to get a better spot for their booths. The beggars always complied for fear of the city guard getting involved. Disputes between beggars and merchants never ended well for the beggar, even when the guards sided with them. The beggar might get a prime spot for begging that day, but they’d be all the more likely to be killed that night, either by a jealous beggar or an enraged merchant.

  Perf chose a quiet corner where he was bound to have absolutely no qualms with anyone, but still get enough castoffs to fill his stomach. He didn’t like quarrels. He could handle himself in a fight, better than most would suspect in fact, but he didn’t need the attention. The spot he’d chosen was beside a meat vendor, a little ways up some stone steps that lead into the domestic quarter. Within an hour Perf had his first piece of rotten meat and a copper coin. He chewed on the meat and he quickly stuffed the coin out of sight. Few beggars knew the benefits of staking out the domestic quarter. True, they weren’t allowed into the city beyond the Main Square, but the paths that lead to the main city could still be squatted in. Most beggars looking for coins clogged themselves into the High Street, hoping to catch the occasional gold or silver piece from the passing gentry. The beggar lucky enough to survive the ensuing scuffle and still have the coin would have to scurry off and spend it before it could be stolen.

  The Domestic quarter housed the gentries servants and many of them came from beggar ancestry and tended to be fairly generous in their own right. True, copper pieces were not the same as gold, but the price for such wealth to a beggar could be far too steep.

  No, Perf thought to himself as just such a scuffle broke out, Far too much trouble.

  Guards went over and carried off the beggars who were either dead or too badly wounded  to move themselves out of the street.

  Poor fools, Perf mused as he watched the guards carry the beggars out of the city gates and toss them, dead and wounded alike, into the river.

  Perf took advantage of the guards momentary distraction and he slipped up the remaining steps into the domestic quarter. Within moments he was out of sight of the guards down in the Main Square but that didn’t mean he was out of danger. There were still guard patrols and the city watch that he had to be wary of. Perf ducked down the first sheltered alley he came to and quickly ripped off his beggars robe. Ignoring the sudden nakedness, he turned the robe inside out and tore the seal off the hidden pouch. Careful not to spill any of the contents, he sorted through until he found what he wanted: a piece of white chalk.

  He sealed the pouch once more and then set the garment off to the side while he drew a rudimentary door on the alley wall. He muttered while he worked and as he finished, he spat a wad of bloody meat he’d been saving in his mouth, onto his drawing.

  The chalk glowed briefly and then the wall opened. A small horse and cart waited in the empty field on the other side of the door and Perf, careful not to step through the doorway himself, coaxed the beast through. The cart scraped against the wall as he lead the horse and the doorway shuddered. Perf held his breath, true fear striking him for the first time in weeks, but the portal held. He realigned the horse and guided it through the rest of the way without incident.

  As soon as the horse and cart were through, Perf muttered a few more words and the door shut. Perf took the water skin off the cart and poured a little water onto the stones above his drawing. The water broke the chalk lines and the wall became solid once again looking like an ordinary wall that a child had scribbled on. All the same, Perf pulled out a change of clothes and dressed quickly. His magic should have been simple enough and brief enough to go unnoticed by the cities Augers, but he still didn’t want to risk being seen.

  Perf led his horse and cart out of the alley looking like a merchant of the Mid Square, where only merchants of high birth were allowed to work. Perf allowed himself a smile. He’d been a beggar for so long that it felt good to be able to smile again without worrying about who was watching.

  The Mid Square lay ahead of him, past the domestic quarter. He’d have to say that he got lost, came in through the wrong gate. The guards would believe him. It happened often enough.

    And then he’d be one step closer to the High Palace and Perf smiled more broadly than ever.

                                                                                      *     *     *

  The Mid Square was busier, louder, and more fragrant than the Main Square. True, the smells here were those of perfumes and spices, whereas the Main Square smelled of refuse and bodies, but Perf still covered his mouth and nose with a silk cloth. The guards here were much more relaxed, their presence here was mainly to discourage any peasants who might have sneaked in looking to steal a coin purse or two.

  “Hold,” a guard said, stepping out in front of Perf and stopping his progress.

  Perf frowned, this was the second guard to stop him since he’d arrived in the Mid Square.

  “What is the problem?” Perf asked, showing his blatant impatience at being stopped. City guards were rarely of noble birth and most nobility saw them as just above peasants.

  The guard hesitated and Perf scowled even more strongly.

  “Well?” Perf demanded at the same moment that the guard had begun to speak. “And haw dare you try to interrupt me, what is your name?”

  The guard wavered but held his ground.

  “Jarel, sir, and I was just needing to see your papers,” Jarel stated, holding out his hand. “We’ve had a number of imposters of late and—

  Perf cut Jarel off with a quick motion of his hand, indicating where his papers had been posted to the side of his cart. The guard shrank slightly at not having noticed them before. Perf doubted that the guard actually checked them, considering how quickly he waved Perf on, but that was the whole point of intimidating the guard. Had the guard really inspected them he might have found a flaw in the forged papers.

  “In the future, Jarel,” Perf said to the guard as he trundled passed, “I suggest you do not allow your personal failures to become the problems of your betters.”

  Jarel said nothing and stomped back off to his patrol while Perf’s frown deepened. The city was on alert. Perf pulled his cart up to an empty stall and quickly unhitched his horse and tethered it to a post with a bag of feed around its snout. Back at his cart, Perf began to uncover and to organize the sundry bottles, vials and powders that he carried. In no time at all he had converted his cart into an alchemists shop, complete with simmering pots and bubbling pipettes.

  Perf breathed in the scents coming from his cart and he unwrapped his face. The smells of sulfur and other chemicals completely overpowered all the other stenches of flower petals and such ilk that the other vendors used to perfume their wares. For their part, the other vendors wrinkled their noses and the ones closest to Perf shifted their stalls further away from his. Few if any alchemist creations actually smelled so foul, and the other vendors knew it, but the stench was an alchemists sign, the stronger the scent the better the alchemist, and Perf’s stench filled the Mid Square. Perf waved cordially to the perturbed vendors around him even as his first customer arrived.

  “Do you have anything for sleep?” The woman asked.

  Perf shuffled through his wares until he found the bottle he was looking for.

  “Two weights of silver,” Perf said and the woman paid him.

  The thin silver coins plinked brightly into his strongbox and Perf set about mixing up another sleeping draft to replace the one he’d just sold. The day passed quickly, with Perf making a fair bit of coins.

  “City gates close at next watch,” The guards called out and the vendors took that as their cue to begin closing up shop.

  Perf replaced his wares into their padded boxes and pulled the tarp over the top, securing it at the corners. His horse was well rested and clambered eagerly in the hopes of being able to move about once more. All the while, Perf kept careful watch on his surroundings. He took his time with the horse, brushing it down, waiting for the other vendors to begin moving away and for the guards to get called on to help with the unavoidable traffic jam. Sure enough, with half of the watch already passed and the slower merchants eager to get out of the city before the gates closed, the Mid Road became clogged with handcarts and horses and the shouts of the lesser nobility carried easily to Perf’s ears.

  He checked on the pouch that, like the one in his beggars clothes, had been stitched onto the inside of his garment. He reached inside the neck of his robe, pretending to have an itch, and removed the solitary item enclosed: a pinch of roughly ground glass. He gritted his teeth as he rubbed his fingers together, breaking the skin and mixing his blood with the powder. Power slipped out of him and he quickly drew the symbols onto his horse, cart, and himself. Perf made one last look around to make certain that no one was watching and then muttered the words. 

                                                                                     *       *       *

    Jarel walked a final round through the Mid Square. He could have sworn that the alchemist hadn’t left yet, but his spot was empty now. He should go and check with the Gate Guard to see if the alchemist had left, but he didn’t exactly look forward to another degrading incident. So he let it go and returned to the guard post where a mess of stewed meat was waiting for him.

                                                                                      *       *       *

  Perf let out the breath he’d been holding once Jarel was gone. Being invisible didn’t prevent one from making sounds. The horse and cart were already back through the passwall but nothing but the low light of dusk had prevented Jarel from seeing the chalk drawing. Once the guard was gone, Perf set about obscuring the drawing. Once again, Perf had changed clothes, this time to look like a member of the Royal Guard. The only thing out of place in his costume was the large sack he had strapped onto his back. There was nothing to be done, he would need the sack and he could only hope no one would stop and question him about it.

  The invisibility would ware off at about the same time that he would be reaching the palace. He wished he could maintain it longer than that, but the city Augers would most definitely find him then. They watched the palace with such vigilance, and understandably, you could never tell when assassins might strike.