against each other like dominos just waiting for the right strike to topple. They crowd all the way along each street right to the massive sewer tunnels and up to the water's edge, where the stink of people turns into the stink of dead fish and people. The water itself is a brown, toxic-looking sludge that looks foul and smells worse, and I'm reminded of a history lesson from high school that said the river Thames in London was once so filthy with waste that you could walk on it. I couldn't picture it at the time, but seeing just how nasty these docks are and the river itself is, I believe it. The massive sewer system that runs underneath the crowded streets of Katharn dumps right into the water, and as we move along the wharf, between the small boats lining the edges of the docks, I can see waterfalls from where the pipes empty out.
There are people everywhere, too. They crowd around us, pushing their way through the streets as if they own them. There are fewer horses—land-hippos, whatever—here, simply because there's no room. There are tons of rats, though, and long-eared cats that chase after them.
And there's filth everywhere. It's piled up in the streets, against buildings, and everyone looks so damn dirty.
I'm really not liking the look of the place, but I didn't expect it to be so nasty. The little farms we passed were crude, and Omos's library was small but clean. Aventine was dusty but orderly. Heck, Tadekha had a glittering crystal palace floating in the air, so I know these people can be clean.
It's clear that Katharn just chooses not to be.
I study the piles of buildings, all falling onto each other, and move a little closer to Aron as I do. He's quiet, but the hood is pulled over his head so far that it's not exactly conducive to conversation. Still, I wish he'd say something. I feel better just hearing his voice, even if he is making sourpuss comments. A man with a dead chicken hanging from his hand leers at me as he walks a little too closely and I move closer to Aron. "So, uh, what's an inn look like in this dump?"
"You ask me as if I stay here often."
Good ol' Aron. "It's your damn world, not mine."
"This is not my city. Were it my choice, we would never set foot here.” He pulls the hood down lower.
Well, that makes two of us. I avoid chicken man and walk a little faster, and I'm relieved to see that Aron stays close to my side. We turn down a side street and find a marketplace, and before we can leave, Aron drags me over to a small tent where someone’s selling knives. Aron points at one, so I buy it. Then he points at another, and another, and a short time later, we’re light on money and loaded with weapons. I want to gripe that we need to save our money for better things, but then Aron will just gripe back at me, and he’s at least staying quiet.
And if we need the weapons? We’ll be glad to have them. So I shut up about it.
After that, I flag down a woman who's got an enormous basket of laundry on her hip and ask her where the closest inn is. Her answer is friendly enough, but there's a hard glint in her eyes as she looks us over, and that makes me think I should hold our money a little closer. She instructs me to look for a building a few streets over with a red roof, and I hold my belongings tightly to my chest, worried I'm going to get knifed in the back, as we walk there.
But we make it, and I'm so damn relieved to see the red tiled roof of the inn itself. The sun is going down and I didn't want to be out on the mean streets of Katharn after dark. The inn doesn't look so bad, I decide. The building's a big two-story that only sags a little. The windows have shutters and little pots of herbs outside each one. There's boisterous laughter and light pouring out from inside, and it smells like hot food. My stomach growls despite myself, because it's been days since I've had a hot meal and I'd really, really love a bowl of stew. I head to the door and then pause, glancing over at Aron. "We