(Photo by Raphael Brasileiro)

Most of the doors in the archives could be locked, though most of those locks were hardly ever used. The exterior doors were locked at night, of course. The trick with those locks, however, was that they were only designed to keep people from entering, not exiting. As Nis slipped out of the archives the night following the attack on Kyneh, she wondered if the archivists knew about that flaw in their plan for keeping her locked inside.

For all that Kyneh had done in defending Nis and placing no blame on her for his wound, neither Nis nor the other archivists were convinced that Nis was safe. That night they’d locked her bedroom door and left her in there. Their initial plan was to minimize contact with her, taking and copying her most recent journal entry each morning and then returning it with her evening meal.

There was no way Nis was going to live like that. Whichever past life it was that had lashed out at Kyneh, it wouldn’t take long for them to rise up again. Nis could almost feel that other life, reaching through her to watch and see what happened next and whether or not her demands about leaving forgotten things alone would be honored. Nis knew that the archivists would most certainly not leave it alone, not now that they knew there were things that had been intentionally forgotten.

Nis had waited several hours before venturing out of her room. She wasn’t sure if the archivists would leave someone behind to keep an eye on her or not and she wanted to give any potential guard the opportunity to fall asleep. She needn’t have worried. The archives were empty and Nis was able to gather her things and leave without anyone noticing.

She had a large bag, normally used for carrying bundles of books, slung over her shoulder. Instead of books, however, it was filled with food and the meager supplies she’d managed to scrounge together that night. It wouldn’t last for very long, a few days at most, but it would give her a chance. In addition to food and supplies, Nis had also brought along a few of her journals. They were the ones that held the more informative bits from Mel’s life that Nis hoped would be sufficient in keeping her alive and well hidden while she made her escape. Lastly, she’d packed a couple of maps she hoped to use in charting her path.

With every step she took, Nis could feel that other mind relaxing. A part of Nis chaffed at being so quickly pushed into running away, but the experience of having all bodily control wrested away from her was too terrifying. She would do nearly anything if it meant she wouldn’t have to experience that ever again. There was also Nis’ concern for the archivists. She loved them like family. Seeing what had been done to Kyneh and knowing it could have been much worse was enough to keep Nis from going back on her decision to run away.

The city of Duran was a very different place at night. Nis had only ever been there during the day and she’d expected Duran to be quiet and still at night. It came as a surprise, then, when she discovered an entirely different and active city. The market square was particularly alive with merchants whose wares Nis didn’t recognize and neither did she understand their uses. Odd smelling ointments, smoking censures, and an uncomfortably knowing look on most everyone’s faces only served to hurry Nis along. Still, she couldn’t help but wander as least somewhat nearer to some of the more interesting stalls.

“Hello, young one,” a silky male voice spoke from the shadowy interior of the stall. Nis could just make out the form of a person sitting on a chair just outside the light of the dim glow lamps that were hung throughout the square. “You are new to the market?”

“I was just passing through,” Nis replied cautiously. She didn’t like the merchant’s tone of voice but couldn’t explain what it was exactly about the man that was so off putting. He sounded much like the other merchants she’d interacted with in the past, the friendliness, the attempt at small talk, all designed to keep her there and looking at their wares. “I haven’t any money, anyway,” Nis added, knowing that that was usually enough to end a merchants interest in her.

“Well you’re in luck,” the merchant said, leaning forward until just the tip of his nose was in the light, almost but not quite revealing his face. “Night market doesn’t use money.”

Nis cast a pointed look to one of the merchants wares, a small clay pot of dried leaves, and the associated label displaying the cost of the dried leaves.

“Oh that’s just for show,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Everyone knows there are things much more valuable, much more enticing than money.”

“I also don’t have anything to trade,” Nis said and began to walk away, in earnest this time.

“Maybe you do,” he called after her, “you’ve got that whole sack of things. I’m sure we could…”

His voice trailed off as Nis continued to ignore him.

“Is the ol’ tea master givin’ you grief?” wheezed an old woman as Nis passed by. “He’s always been a bi’ too keen to make a trade for my likin’.”

“Hah,” the man barked out a false laugh. “Don’t listen to her, young miss, she’s no different than the rest of us.”

Nis glanced back and was surprised to find the man standing outside of his stall now, his back to the light so his face remained in shadow. The elderly woman puffed through her lips but said nothing else.

The longer Nis was there, the more uncomfortable she felt. It was only then that she noticed how pretty much everyone in the square was somehow keeping their faces hidden. Some, like the first merchant who had spoken to Nis, kept in the shadows, but others had their faces wrapped up in strips of cloth or else had deep hoods pulled up over their heads.

Everything about this night market felt off to her so Nis tucked her own head down and hurried out of the square. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched, perhaps followed, but she didn’t dare look back. What would she do if she looked back and someone was there? She wasn’t a fighter, wasn’t a very fast runner either. So she just kept on hurrying through the city streets. When at last she reached the edge of Duran, Nis turned westward and began cutting through the open ground. There was a forest in that direction and not too far away where she planned on hiding out in for the first little while. She would test out her survival skills, ensuring that her memories would be enough to keep her alive. If all worked out well then she’d press on and make for the Unexplored Wastes. If it proved too difficult, Nis would be close enough to Duran that she could at least entertain the possibility of returning to the archives.