Low Town by Daniel Polansky

from our time as children. “I’ll light a candle that Prachetas might bring comfort to her family, and one to Lizben, that the girl’s soul will find her way home. But frankly I’m not sure what business it is of yours. Let the Crown handle it.”
    “Why Celia—that sounds like something I would say.”
    She blushed again, faintly ashamed.
    I took a few steps toward a towering plant in full bloom, stripped from some distant corner of the globe. Its odor was cloying and heavy. “You’re happy here, following in his footsteps?”
    “I’ll never have his skill, nor be capable of his mastery of the Art. But it is an honor to be the Crane’s heir. I study day and night to be worthy of the privilege.”
    “You aim to replace him?”
    “Not replace of course, no one could ever replace the Master. But he won’t be here forever. Someone will need to ensure his work continues. The Master understands that, it’s part of why I’m being raised in rank.” She lifted her chin, confident bordering on imperious. “When the time comes I’ll be ready to safeguard the people of Low Town.”
    “Alone in the tower? Seems like a lonely pursuit. The Crane was past middle age when he retired here.”
    “Sacrifice is part of the responsibility.”
    “What happened to your clerkship at the Bureau of Magical Affairs?” I asked, recalling the position she had occupied the last time we had spoken. “You seemed to be enjoying it.”
    “I realized I had ambitions beyond spending the rest of my life shuffling papers across a desk and arguing with functionaries and bureaucrats.” Her eyes iced over, unhappy contrast to the sweetnessshe had heretofore offered me. “It’s an aim you would be more familiar with, had you bothered to speak to me in the last five years.”
    Hard to argue that one. I turned back toward the greenery. The anger leaked out of Celia, and after a moment she was her jovial self. “Enough of this—we’ve years and years to catch up on! What are you doing with yourself these days? How is Adolphus?”
    There was no good to be found in prolonging this, not for either of us. “It’s been good seeing you. It’s a comfort to know you’re still looking after the Master.” And that he’s still looking after you.
    Her smile flickered. “You’ll return tomorrow then? Come by for dinner—we’ll set a plate for you, like old times.”
    I tapped at one petal of the flower I had been staring at, sending grains of pollen wandering through the air. “Good-bye Celia. Be as well as you possibly can.” I walked out before she could respond. By the time I reached the bottom of the stairwell I was practically sprinting, pushing open the tower door and fleeing into the early evening.
    A half block past the Square of Exultation I leaned against an alley wall and fumbled in my pouch for some breath. My hands were unsteady and I found I could barely open the top, finally forcing out the cork and shoving the vial to my nose. I took a slow, deep draw—then another.
    It was a shaky walk back to the Earl, and I would have been an easy mark for any thug who cared to make prey of me, if there’d been any around. But there weren’t. It was just me.

The boy was sitting at a table across from Adolphus, whose wide smile and broad gestures told me he was in the middle of some exaggerated anecdote before I could actually hear him speak.
    “And the lieutenant says, ‘What makes you think that way is east?’ And he says, ‘ ’Cause that’s the morning sun in my eyes or I’m blinded by your brilliance, and if it was the latter, you’d know how to work a compass.’ ” Adolphus laughed uproariously, his huge face wagging. “Can you imagine that? Out there in front of the entire battalion! The lieutenant didn’t know whether to shit his pants or court-martial him!”
    “Boy,” I interrupted. Wren slunk slowly from his chair. “How well do you know Kirentown?”
    “I’ll find whatever you need me to,” he