Sand and Ash

Chapter 27: Two Months Later

The underbelly of society is far larger and more organized than anyone could imagine.

—Milifor Krum, Hidden Dangers of Kormar

Rutejìmo ran along the outer circuit of Wamifuko City, following hidden paths that circled the city and kept him away from those who still walked with their heads held high. One more delivery and he would be done for the day.

Since he started, people called his delivery route The Dépa Trail. There were three couriers who ran along the trail with magic, and two of them followed dépa spirits. The only difference came from the source of their power: Rutejìmo followed a spirit of the day, and the other gained power when the moon rose above the horizon.

They also worked for the same woman, a dour-faced hag who managed to know everyone in the dark parts of society. A banyosiōu just like him, she had been abandoned by the Wamifūko when she used her powers to carve out a little dominion of her own. Now, she was unseen like the others and a surprising ally.

Rutejìmo wasn't living richly, but he had a comfortable spot to sleep in her house and enough money to buy little presents for Mapábyo. The rest of his money went into saving for the time between Mapábyo's mail routes.

With a smile, he jumped across a chasm and landed on the far side. His bare feet dug into the ridges of the rock, and he took a sharp turn to head down from the hills and into the plains where the various clans camped when they didn't want to enter the city. It was along the eastern side of the city, so the clans present would be ones who gained power from Tachìra. The moon clans always entered from the north or south.

Down along the sun-baked plains, he raced between two herds of sheep. The clan colors, white and red on one side and blue on the other, were as sharply contrasting as the two clans screaming at each other. Knives and swords flashed in the air with their threats.

The noise quieted for only a moment when he ran past, until they realized he wore gray and white—the colors of the banyosiōu.

His destination came up on the right, a large tent flanked by two armed guards. The clan warriors watched him with narrowed eyes when he came to a halt just outside the rope that identified their temporary territories. He turned and looked over at the rest of the warring clans, his skin crawling with the sight of so many brandished blades.

Turning back to the tents, he bowed, but said nothing.

Rutejìmo didn't speak much anymore. The lessons he learned in the desert still held true in the city. He was unseen even when he stood in the sun. Those who still had a clan would look away from him, but it didn't stop them from using his services. It just took him a while to learn the cues of being unseen but useful.

A herder swore at a small flock of sheep and guided them past Rutejìmo. His eyes never drifted toward Rutejìmo and Rutejìmo did the same. Not even his sheep seemed to look at Rutejìmo.

Something thudded between his feet. Glancing down, he saw a small purse. He toed it and guessed it was full from the heavy weight. Without looking up, he pulled out a thin tube from his shirt and held it at his side.

A herd of sheep came walking by, their bodies bumping against him.

He counted to three and let it go, dropping it into the animals that crowded him. He didn't feel it hit the ground.

It took a moment for the herd to pass him. As soon as he could, he picked up the coin purse and shoved it into his pocket.

Rutejìmo didn't know what was in the tube, and he didn't care. He stepped back twice and turned around. The two clans were still screaming at each other, seconds away from a fight, but no one paid any attention to him. He was invisible, a ghost among the others.