Of Gods and Elves - By Brian D. Anderson Page 0,55

in the very center of the largest delta in the world. The soil was rich and black, and the humid climate made the ground wet most of the time. It was nearly impossible not to track mud wherever you walked. Frequent rain washed away the buildup before it could get out of hand, but it left a strong musty odor, to which Salmitaya swore she could never grow accustomed.

The houses where mostly single story, brick and mortar structures, even those owned by the nobles. However, closer to the docks you began to notice houses and shops built on tall pylons to avoid the occasional extreme high tides.

One of the largest cities in the world, Baltria was known mostly for its massive ports and market places that were as big as some towns. Goods from everywhere were shipped from the Goodbranch River. From there they spread to all points near and far.

Salmitaya despised the tavern district. Yanti had her going every two or three days to check local gossip and pay his informants. At first, she feared she might be spotted. Word of her betrayal had certainly traveled this far by now, and if she were caught she would be spending the rest of her life in a dark temple prison cell. However, it soon became clear that, in her present state of filth and dishevelment, no one recognized her. Twice she had seen sisters and brothers that she had known, but they walked right passed without so much as a second glance. After that she removed the mirrors from her room.

This time of year in Kaltinor, snow would be falling, but here it was unbearably hot. Her heavy clothing made the heat seem like a torture, and the humidity made the filth cling like leeches.

“Taya,” called the raspy, uncouth voice of Saul Milspend.

Salmitaya clinched her jaw and stepped up her pace. Saul was a fish merchant and one of Yanti's local informants. His bald head, short round frame, and smile that was missing several teeth, caused her to recoil every time she saw the man. Worse, he was constantly trying to touch her on the hand or shoulder, in a clumsy attempt at flirting.

“Taya!” he called louder.

Salmitaya dropped her head and stopped. She could hear Saul's lumbering footsteps running up behind her.

Saul caught her by the shoulder. “I am glad I caught you.”

Salmitaya recoiled. “What is it Saul?” The stench of rotten fish caught in her nostrils. “The innkeeper at the Malt and Mane said you should come by. He said make sure you come through the back.” He held out his hand and gave her a toothless smile.

Salmitaya reached into the small pouch that hung from her belt and gave him a copper. Saul tried to thank her, but she quickly walked away in the direction of the inn.

The streets were crowded with the many local and foreign merchants and city dwellers. Fashions from the farthest reach of the world could be seen everywhere. Salmitaya was particularly fond of the silk wraps and colorful dresses of the eastern desert. Though every time she saw one, it reminded her of her own poor appearance. It took her the better part of an hour to wind her way through the city to the tavern district.

The Malt and Mane was typical of the many inns in Baltria. Not particularly nice, but not a flophouse either. Still, as a lady of culture and dignity, it was not a place she wanted to be. That she was instructed to enter from the rear was as much of an insult as she could bear, but she dare not ignore it. Yanti had intrigues everywhere and was constantly gathering information. Salmitaya reckoned he had dirt on every influential person in the city and he made sure they knew it.

As she rounded the corner where the inn was located, she froze. Not twenty feet away stood Celandine, talking to a fruit merchant. Immediately she spun around and hurried back around the corner and put her back flat against the building.

Salmistaya peered around slowly, careful not to be seen. Celandine wore a tan linen dress, rather than her novice robes, and her hair flowed loosely about her shoulders, but there was no mistake... it was Celandine. Salmitaya watched until she entered the Malt and Mane, then sped off back to the house, unsure what she was going tell Yanti.

By the time she reached the house she was drenched in sweat and her legs burned. She paused, composed herself,