They had something of mine, and though I didn’t yet know how, I planned on getting it back.
And now, let me speak of the extenuating set of circumstances that brought me one step closer to that goal.
It was a day like any other. The sky was overcast with heavy clouds after a spring storm. Hunger had woken me early, and I ventured to one of the spots where begging was most fruitful.
The city of Hallengard was divided into two districts, as I’ve told you before. Magda’s hut, clearly, was located in the south. My alleyway of crates was close by.
I have never been to north Hallengard.
The city is large enough that you can walk in a straight line for two days and still be within its walls. If fancy took you to make a turn, you could wander for three times that amount of time.
After losing my mark, nothing compelled me to seek out the grand structure in the heart of the city. Seeing it would only fill me with regret. Hallengard did not allow for self-pity.
I had barely spent an hour begging when a small, raggedy man approached me. His manner reminded me uncomfortably of Karl. He wore old, brown robes, stained with years of use. He had the same small, beady eyes.
Experience had taught me to be on my guard.
Without a word, he settled down a few feet away from me. I eyed him warily. He closed his eyes, took out a pipe, and started to smoke.
In those days, there were two types of leaves that people smoked. The first was called Angelherb. It was a small, brownish weed that sprouted in the cracks along buildings. When properly dried and crushed, it could be smoked for a brief, serene high that lasted anywhere from five to ten minutes.
After that, it made you violently sick.
I knew. One of the first things Thraugh showed me was how to roll Angelherb and smoke it without a pipe. The crash after the high was one of the most miserable experiences of my life.
The second leaf was called Devil’s Bane. It was closely related to Angelherb, but much rarer—and thus, more prized. Devil’s Bane gave you a clean, long-lasting high with no crash. When you smoked it, it was said that visions of otherworldly creatures came to your mind. You could hear them whispering in your ears.
Priests used Devil’s Bane on a regular basis. They said it brought them closer to Xune.
That, of course, was a lie. But because of the susceptibility of the general public, it allowed the Church to control supply of Devil’s Bane. They sold it only to their worshippers—and only enough for them to get the briefest high.
Devil’s Bane was notoriously addictive. Whereas Angelherb had a kind of self-regulating mechanism, Devil’s Bane had no such property. The Church leveraged that to extract money from the rich and increase its political power.
Angelherb and Devil’s Bane were both distinguishable by the smell of their smoke. Angelherb gave off noxious, poisonous fumes. Devil’s Bane had a sweet, slightly tart aroma.
From the smoke rising beside me, I could tell the man was smoking Devil’s Bane.
That made me both curious and cautious. A beggar on the street could not afford Devil’s Bane. Nobody in south Hallengard could. He must have stolen it—but eying him again, I could not imagine he had the deftness of hand or mind to pull off the caper. That meant he was somehow related to the Church.
Of course, there was also a third option. Alchemists in the city claimed to be able to refine Angelherb so that only the active ingredient remained. That was a load of horseshit. All they did was add scented chemicals to it that made the aroma somewhat reminiscent of Devil’s Bane. It was not quite a perfect match, but, oftentimes, gullible junkies did not know any better…
Until the crash took them.
But, the man beside me smoked in silence for a good, long while. If it had been Angelherb, he would have exhibited the symptoms long ago.
The man stuck his pipe out at me. “You want a puff?” he asked. His eyes were still closed.
I had never