POV Alexander
I woke up thinking about death. It was definitely a strange thing for a 7 name days boy to be thinking about. But considering what i had gone through it was the only thing I could think about. I would have thought ever since then I would be cornered by nightmares, but instead I got nothing at all. When I closed my eyes I saw nothing, felt nothing and then I just woke up. Maybe I did dream, mayhaps it was too much for me to handle. Whatever the case I was awake and death wouldn't feed me at all, so thinking about it was not going to help. I got up with the mud on my clothes, well if you could even call it clothes they were more like rags.
I walked out of the alley way and instantly I noticed I was hungry and had not a clue on where to get food. So I thought of the only other thing I could do…steal. Father always told me stealing was bad but he also said there was a time and place for everything. I looked around a lucky where ever I was it seemed to have a lot of shops open and lots of people walking around so it would be easy to take something or so I hoped
The street was already awake in a way I had never seen before.
Astapor in the training yard was quiet, controlled. Pain had rules there. Out here it was loud and shapeless. The air smelled of smoke, spices, sweat, and the sea all mixed together. People pressed past me on every side: slaves with shaved heads carrying baskets, merchants in bright robes shouting prices, guards with bronze caps watching everything with bored eyes. No one looked at me twice. A muddy boy in rags was just another piece of the street.
My stomach twisted so hard I had to stop walking. It felt like something inside me was chewing its way out.
Food.
That was all that mattered now.
I moved slowly at first, pretending I knew where I was going. Father always said if you walked like you belonged somewhere, most people would believe it. I kept my chin up and copied the stride of a boy carrying a tray of bread. The smell hit me and my mouth filled with water. Flat loaves stacked high, still steaming. I almost reached for one right then like an animal.
No. Too open.
I kept walking.
Vendors lined the street in crooked rows. Some sold dried fish strung on twine, their silver eyes staring. Others had piles of fruit I didn't know the names of, purple and yellow and bleeding juice onto the wood. One man roasted meat over a spit, fat dripping into the fire and hissing. The sound alone hurt.
I stopped at a stall near the edge of the crowd. A woman stood behind it, thick arms folded, watching customers with sharp little eyes. Her table was covered in dates and nuts and small honey cakes stacked in a pyramid. The cakes were cracked on top, golden and sticky. I could smell the sweetness from where I stood.
My stomach made the choice for me.
I circled once, pretending to look at the other stalls. I counted her movements. She took coins, handed change, slapped a boy's hand when he tried to grab early. Fast hands. Angry hands. But she kept turning to shout at a man across the street every few breaths.
That was the gap.
I stepped in close with a group of buyers. My heart pounded so loud I was sure she could hear it. I reached out like I was just another customer pointing.
My fingers closed around a cake.
Warm. Soft.
For a moment I froze. I had it. I had actually done it. I could walk away. I could—
"HEY!"
Her hand clamped around my wrist like iron.
The cake slipped from my fingers and hit the table. Her nails dug into my skin. Her face was inches from mine, breath hot and furious.
"Thief!"
The word cut through the street. Heads turned.
I didn't think. I twisted and bit her hand.
She screamed and let go. I grabbed the cake and ran.
The world exploded into motion. People shouted as I shoved past them. Someone stuck a foot out and I nearly went down. I caught myself on a crate, scattering fruit everywhere. The woman's voice chased me, a stream of curses and promises. Heavy footsteps thundered behind me.
Guards.
I ran harder.
My lungs burned. The cake was crushed in my fist but I didn't dare stop to eat it. I darted into a narrow side street, then another, slipping on wet stone. The sounds followed me. Boots. Shouting. Closer.
I turned a corner and slammed straight into someone.
We both hit the ground. The cake flew from my hand and skidded through the mud. I scrambled for it, but a hand caught my collar and yanked me back.
I looked up into a boy's face.
He was my age, maybe a little older. Dark skin, shaved head, eyes bright and sharp like a crow's. He glanced past me toward the shouting and grinned.
"You run slow," he said.
Before I could answer, he grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. He kicked a loose board leaning against the wall. It toppled, blocking part of the alley just as two guards turned the corner. They crashed into it, swearing.
The boy pulled me the other way, through a gap I hadn't even seen. We squeezed between two buildings so tight my shoulders scraped stone. The world narrowed to darkness and breath and pounding blood. I thought I'd get stuck. Then we burst out into another alley, empty and quiet.
He didn't stop until we were deep in the maze.
Finally he let go and bent over, laughing softly. Not cruel laughter. Excited. Alive.
I stood there shaking, staring at him.
He straightened and tossed me something.
The cake.
I caught it on instinct. It was dirty now, streaked with mud. I didn't care. I tore into it with my teeth. Sweetness flooded my mouth. I almost cried.
The boy watched me eat with a small smile.
"You're welcome," he said.
I swallowed and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. My heart was still racing, but for the first time since I ran from the cutting room, it wasn't fear that filled me.
It was something else.
"You didn't have to help me," I said.
He shrugged. "Some do what they must."
He leaned back against the wall, studying me like he was deciding something important.
"You look like trouble," he added. "I like trouble."
I clutched the coin in my pocket without meaning to, feeling its cold edge through the ragged cloth. The boy's eyes flicked to my hand, then back to my face.
And he smiled wider.