Bridge of Dreams

Chapter 13

Zeela strode down the shadow street, and everything about the way she moved told the men watching her from dark doorways that she had business on this street and wasn’t looking for company.

Halfway down the second block, she spotted the Apothecary’s sign.

Shaman Danyal had spent two evenings walking this street and the surrounding ones, looking for this shop. When Zhahar suggested letting her sister find the Apothecary, he hadn’t been happy about sending a woman but had agreed to let Zeela try.

Of course, the Shaman wasn’t aware that Zeela had had dealings with the Apothecary before and wouldn’t have any trouble finding the shop.

*Don’t be smug,* Zhahar scolded. *He really is concerned about you being here.*

=I know.= She was also fairly certain that, good man or not, the Shaman wouldn’t let Zhahar keep her job another minute if he found out they were Tryad and what that meant. But that was an opinion she took pains to keep from both her sisters.

She opened the shop door and took a swift look around. This wasn’t business she wanted to transact when there were other customers present.

When she reached the counter at the back of the shop, the Apothecary pushed aside the thin curtain that separated the shop from his work area.

“What can I do for you today?” he asked pleasantly.

Apothecaries were shadowmen, neither good nor evil. Like the streets where their shops were located, they couldn’t be found by everyone, but those who could find them came from the Light as well as the Dark. They made what their customers asked them to make, and it was said that whether they were good or evil depended on the person standing on the other side of the counter.

It was also said that the potion in the bottle could turn against the person buying it if that person lied to the Apothecary.

Zeela pulled the bottle of eyedrops out of her trouser pocket and set it on the counter with the label facing the Apothecary. “I need this refilled.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She withdrew money from her other pocket, set it on the counter beside the bottle, and fanned the bills enough to show him it was the standard amount he charged for information. Whatever he might put in a bottle to justify the visit was never more than an additional token fee.

“I would like this bottle refilled with information about who first bought it and why.” She saw him hesitate, so she added, “I’m asking on behalf of a Shaman.”

“Ah.” The Apothecary relaxed a bit. “A man who doesn’t know enough to mind his own business. Or so I’ve heard.”

“I’ve heard he doesn’t let anyone tell him what should be his business. The man these drops were used on? He’s now the Shaman’s business.”

He nudged the bottle with a fingertip. “First bottle? Pain and cloudy eyes. Blindness. But once the drops are no longer used, sight will gradually return, although it might never be all that it was. Second bottle?” He shook his head. “Destroys the eyes. Permanently.”

“Is there anything that can help reverse the damage already done?”

“Perhaps.” He studied her, then went behind a curtain. When he returned, he set another bottle on the counter, along with a pair of dark glasses. “Two drops in each eye, morning and evening. After the drops go in, put a cool, damp cloth over the eyes to soothe. Sunlight will be painful while the eyes are healing—might even cause damage, so be careful.”

“When this bottle is used up…”

“This much will fix whatever can be fixed.”

*Lee might still be blind,* Zhahar said, sounding fretful.

=He might,= Zeela agreed.

::But we’ll help him,:: Sholeh said.

“What do I owe you for these?” Zeela asked, waving a hand over the eyedrops and dark glasses.

Another long look. He pocketed the money she’d already placed on the counter. “This is enough.”

Giving him a nod of thanks, she slipped the bottle into her trouser pocket. After a moment’s thought, she tucked the glasses under her shirt, between her breasts.

“Two other things, because you came on behalf of the Shaman,” the Apothecary said. “First, he should not wander the shadow streets for a while. Something has been slithering in the corners lately, and the shadow streets have gotten darker because of it—and I’ve heard whispers that what slithers would like to silence those who are the voice of the world.”

Zeela suppressed a shiver. There was something out there that posed a threat to the Shamans?

“Second,” the Apothecary continued, “the men who purchased that first bottle were killed last night.”

Zeela felt Zhahar and Sholeh’s fear, but she held herself quiet—and ready. “How?”

“They were struck by lightning. Both of them.”

She frowned. “There was no storm last night.”

“This lightning came out of an alley and burned through them. It wasn’t a kind death. They screamed as they burned, but there was nothing anyone could do to help them. I’ve heard rumors that other men have died that way in the northwestern community—good men who asked too many questions.”

“A strange death, to be sure,” Zeela murmured.

“Stranger still because the city guards had been around that very afternoon, looking for those men. Made the citizens of our little street wonder if those men had become an inconvenience to someone.”

“I’ll pass along the information.” She turned and walked swiftly to the front of the shop.

As she reached for the door, he said, “Travel lightly.”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “Travel lightly.”

Slipping out the door, she strode up the street, straining to hear anything, everything. Knives and brass knuckles weren’t going to keep them safe against an enemy who controlled lightning.

*Whoever killed those men can’t connect you to the Asylum,* Zhahar said.

=Not yet anyway.=

::What should we do?:: Sholeh asked.

*Give the eyedrops and glasses to Shaman Danyal tonight,* Zhahar said.

Zeela didn’t like feeling so uneasy, but she was their Tryad’s defender for a reason. =We aren’t going home tonight. Women aren’t safe after dark anymore in our part of the city. Zhahar, you need to figure out some excuse to stay at the Asylum tonight.=

*We don’t have any clean clothes.*

=Shaman Danyal will have to give us time to go home and get some in the morning, because we’re not going tonight.=

::You’re afraid of that lightning,:: Sholeh said. ::I am too.::

Zeela growled and lengthened her stride. Not enough people out, even now when she was away from the shadow streets.

*I’ll think of a reason,* Zhahar said quietly.

Zeela didn’t say anything. She didn’t breathe easy until they were in Shaman Danyal’s office, handing over the eyedrops and glasses—and telling him everything the Apothecary had said.