by Scott Moore
The soldiers beside him did nothing to stop the hailing of objects. Not that they would have been able to anyhow. It took well over thirty minutes to walk from the barracks to the council hall. It took another fifteen to wedge in through the crowd at the doors.
A hand reached out from the crowding pulling on a soldier’s collar. The poor asshole lost his balance and fell down the stairs becoming lost into the crowd. Nov wondered if he would ever see daylight again, but maybe he would be one of the lucky ones. Nov would meet him soon in hell, but soon Sera wouldn’t be any different. The Groundborn would roam the streets, the citizens would become meals, and the walls would fall. Sera would become hell on earth, and maybe Nov wouldn’t have to regret swinging on his rope.
The soldiers didn’t press him toward the council’s long stairs. He remembered the trek and was a bit thankful. The council wouldn’t be there, but they would be around soon, if for nothing else but to see him pay.
Adjacent to the council building—under another set of rules—sat prison cells. They were rarely used. Most of the time, offenders were taken to the soldier barracks, or the city cells, but special cases were housed in the cells of the council. Special cases such as treason or murder, or in Nov’s case both.
The door to the stairs creaked open from low usage and the soldiers pushed Nov down the ten stairs to the hard-concrete floor.
“Learn to walk,” said one from behind him. The others laughed. After the walk, the boys had found some nerve, or maybe it was the ties around Nov’s wrist that emboldened them.
Nov didn’t respond to their remarks. He didn’t care anymore. Let the little shits have their fun. Let them ruin what last hope they had at surviving this damn war. The man in front opened the cell gates, more of a grate than a door.
On the inside of the cell, the floor was covered in old, wet straw. The smell hit Nov’s nose like a pungent burst of fumes churning Nov’s stomach. It smelled even worse as the two boys behind him tripped him face first into the cell.
“Should we take off his cuffs?” one of them asked the other.
“Don’t see why, he should get used to the rope,” said another.
All of them got their laughs. Nov rolled over onto his back and scooted back against the wall. He could still feel the warm trickle of blood dripping from his chin, and after the fall there was more to join it.
The soldiers closed the gates and locked them.
“I hope you enjoy your stay.” And with that they left. Giggling all the way up the stairs and closing the creaking door behind them.
It was dark down in the dungeons and Nov was alone with only his thoughts.
***
Alti moved down the dark streets. She had watched the spectacle earlier in the day. Nov had walked with his head staring straight forward, and his eyes focused on nothing. The people had made their display, by throwing inanimate objects at him as he passed. She expected nothing else from them. The guards that escorted him were no better than the mob. She noticed their force growing greater as they moved closer to the council cells. They did not understand what Nov had tried to do for them. They couldn’t comprehend that they were all in grave danger.
The woman named Mankamp had ruined Alti’s plans with a wave of her tongue. She held power here in this city, more than what a single person should. Dismissed a war with the Groundborn in moments. Set in stone the name of Nov as a traitor. Alti had taken to the shadows. No one knew who she was, and no one seemed to care. They had their scape goat, and that was all they needed.
Alti waited for night to fall before she made her move. She knew where the cells were. They weren’t hard to find, even easier when the guards didn’t bother to watch for trailers as they opened the doors to the stairs.
She wasn’t surprised, however. The guards were more interested in impressing the fancy dressed nobles. Their swords on their belts as ornate decorations and their brains as attachments that came standard in all humans, even if some didn’t use it.
Alti scooted past the two men supposed to be keeping guard. They were too busy talking about women to notice her slip past.
Her booted steps echoed off the walls, but it didn’t matter, the guards would not pay any attention to them. She made it down to the bottom of the stairs. Another door, this one thicker than the top. She wiggled the handle, finding that the soldiers had remembered to at least lock this one.
Unlucky for them it wouldn’t take much to pick the lock. She stepped back and directed a stream of light from her fingers. Darts worked wonders on many objects, locked doors were one of them. The lock clicked, and she turned the knob.
The cells were dark. There would be no windows this deep, and the guards had not bothered to light a torch. She didn’t need much to see in the dark, so Alti didn’t bother lighting one either.
There weren’t many cells. Unlikely that she would find any prisoners down here with Nov. That also meant she could skip cells until she located an inhabited one.
It didn’t take her long to find him slouched against the back wall of his cell with his head down. It looked to Alti that the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. She could only imagine how he felt. Alone with only his thoughts to keep him company. If he hadn’t struggled with pulling the crank the night of the ball, then he surely regretted everything that happened afterward.
Nov’s breathing slowed, but Alti could tell he didn’t sleep. She doubted he could sleep. She stepped up to the gates and tried to think of the best thing to start off with. Her hands wrapped around the cold, metal bars.
“Nov,” she called out. His head tilted toward the sound of her voice, but she doubted he could see her in the darkness. “It is time to go.” She had expected something to light up in his eyes, maybe some hope. She was wrong. Nov only shook his head and tilted his chin back toward his chest. Who would stay in a cell if enticed with freedom? “Nov, I can get you out of here, there is still something we can do.” He looked up this time, not that he could see her anyhow. “Why?” she asked.
It took Nov a minute to answer she began to think he would not. “I made a vow so long ago now, but still just as meaningful. Said I would protect the citizens of Sera. Promised on my life that no harm would come under my watch as a soldier. I failed that duty. Not only did I fail, but I brought those fuckers into the city. I didn’t just break the vow I had promised, I tore it to pieces and took a shit on the remains.”
Alti could feel the struggle.
“I deserve to be inside these cell walls. I deserve to die by the end of the rope, or whatever the council decides. That is my fate and I deserve it.
Alti stood still a moment. Nov thought all the damage was his alone to bear. Neither of them could have known her siblings would appear and ruin the plan. No one could have guessed at the deaths of Sera’s citizens, but if anyone need to be blamed, it was her. However, Alti knew that blaming didn’t change the fact, it only made moving forward harder. She had to make Nov see that. Sera hadn’t fallen to her father yet, and while the city walls stood and the people still drew breath, a chance remained to stop him.
“There is still a slim chance of stopping Sera from falling. While our attempt didn’t work, it doesn’t have to be the end,” she started.
Nov interrupted her but did not lift his head. “It is over for me,” he said.
Alti could hear the resolution in his voice. He had given up. “Nov, you tried your best. You did what you thought to be right. What we both thought to be right. Things fail, you know that more than anyone, being a soldier. Sometimes plans crumble, but you don’t stop swinging your sword.”
Nov didn’t bother replying. Alti tried to gather her thoughts. There had to be something she could do to save him. She couldn’t watch him die for decisions they had made with the best of intentions. If Nov died, then her father would win. If her father won, then her promise to her mother meant nothing at all. Alti stepped back from the bars.
“No one could have known they were coming Nov. Me and five
others, the offspring of the King of Forever. You could not have known they would come and destroy the plan. I could not have known, though if anyone is to blame it is me for not planning for it in case.” She tried a last ditch effort to alleviate the pain, but Nov didn’t respond. “The Groundborn aren’t the only enemy, Nov. They are the pawns to a much larger game. Sera isn’t the last city, not technically anyhow.” Nov still didn’t seem enticed.
Maybe he was too far gone. Maybe he had resigned himself to the end of his life. Alti couldn’t take that for an answer though, she still needed him, and others like him. Nov thought he failed the city, what he needed to see was that he had not made a bad decision.
Nov wasn’t in the mindset to hear her story. She would tell him another time, in another setting. First though, she had to make sure he would be around to hear it. She aimed a dart at the lock of the cell door and shot, melting the lock mechanism. The cell door swung open with a loud creak.
Nov looked up, but his eyes had not changed. “I cannot follow you,” he said.
So, he would make her drag him from the cell. So set in his sorrow he would drown in it. She bent down to stare into his eyes. Even that close, she couldn’t be sure if he could make her out in the dark.
In this state, Alti could drag Nov up the stairs and into the city streets. In time, he may heal and be of use to her again. She needed him now though. Needed something that would pull him from the darkness and back into the light. She remembered the first day she had met him. It wasn’t her plan to use this man, it hadn’t been her idea to recruit him for this job. Always another had filled this spot, but Nov had pulled through for her, and now she would pull through for him.
Alti stood, she wouldn’t drag him from his cage. She had another plan. Alti walked back through the cell door and closed it behind her, it no longer latched, but Nov didn’t seem to care. Alti made her way back through the dark hall and up the stairs.
She would throw a last-ditch effort into play and hope it succeeded.
They gnaw at you like beasts. Teeth sinking deep into your skin. You can’t escape them. You are helpless. No use running. At night they will find you no matter where you sleep. Dreams are the curse of all men alike.
40
Sammy watched Miles close his eyes, as he did so his body shook, and Miles moaned. Whatever happened to Miles seemed very unpleasant. Sammy tried asking Miles what he did, but Miles did not reply. So, Sammy gave up on asking and watched Miles flop on the ground. It fascinated Sammy at first, but he grew restless soon after. Sammy decided he would find something else to occupy his mind until Miles finished.
Looking around the shed, Sammy found mostly emptiness. It contained very little material. What it did contain—Sammy learned—were farming tools. Tools used to make food. Sammy guessed that this was what the men around the fire and Miles had shoved into their mouths. Sammy started to understand that most people liked to have it.
The rest of the shed was just walls and floor. Both of which were scarce in quantity. Sammy wondered how long it had been since someone had lived in this place. He raised his hand and wiped the wet hair from out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t mind the substance that Miles had called rain. In fact, he found he enjoyed the feeling as it ran down his cheek.
Sammy glanced over at Miles, who still jerked with his eyes closed. Sammy wondered how long Miles would need to do this before telling him what to do next. Sammy imagined what they were heading toward but showed a futile exercise.
There were a few things he had learned since waking up in that dark place covered in purple mist. He knew now that you killed a man if he threatened you with a pointy object. Knew that if someone stuck that object into someone else hard enough, they would stop moving, presumably forever. It was okay to kill a man if he had something you wanted too. Sammy wasn’t sure why this was acceptable, but he stored the information in his mind anyhow, just in case.
Sammy had also learned that creatures popped from the ground. They came from nothing at all and returned there after the pointy things were shoved into them. However, men did not share this quality. Men stayed after they died. Did this mean the creatures could not die? He knew that the creatures never bothered with him. They didn’t show any interest in his movements. He could not get them to acknowledge him. Sammy also could not touch the creatures. His hand would glide through their bodies as if they were nothing but air. Miles could touch them though. Miles touched many of them, stabbing them with his old rusted sword.
Miles gave out a groan. Sammy thought this may be what Miles had referred to as pain. Miles’ body didn’t look very good. When they had first met, Miles was scared and pale, but his body seemed to run and move with ease. Now with every movement, Miles made that funny noise. His face seemed bigger in places. Around his mouth and eyes especially. This had happened after the punches.
The image of Miles laughing into his cup at the bar and card game would now only be a memory. Maybe Sammy could find more of the smell bad. It seemed to make everyone laugh and carry on. Sammy didn’t have any of that stuff, nor any idea on where to get it.
Sammy wondered if it came from the animals like the food Miles had described to him. Or if the fields created it.
Miles cried out again. Something about the king. Sammy didn’t know the king, but he knew that the king hated Miles. Miles didn’t much like the king either. Both wanted to stick the pointy metal into one another.
Sammy didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to think about where Miles had come from, not now at least. He didn’t even know where he had come from. He woke up and was. That was all he could remember about the life of Sammy. He couldn’t remember anything prior to those stones and that mist.
“Where the hell do you come from?” Miles screamed.
Sammy startled, but realized that Miles’ eyes remained shut.
He couldn’t see the creatures. He couldn’t feel them either. Sammy had noticed the tingling the first time they had appeared. Then again, each time they showed up around him. He didn’t feel it now, but he felt something, something strange.
Maybe he imagined it. Miles made another moan and when Sammy looked, his eyes popped wide open.
***
Miles felt frantic. His heart was beating much faster than it should have been after a good night’s rest, or at least a decent few hours of rest. He couldn’t recall having a nightmare, but his heart pounded so hard it felt like his chest would explode.
Miles pushed his hair back from his face and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He saw Sammy staring at him wide eyed and open mouthed. The fool hadn’t slept a wink during the night.
“Is the sun up?” Miles asked. Sammy stared back at him with a blankness only known in the simple-minded. Miles shouldn’t have even bothered questioning the man about anything. “The big yellow ball in the sky.”
Sammy looked up toward the holes in the roof. Miles didn’t need an answer now, he could see for himself the light from the sun. “Yes,” Sammy answered anyhow.
Miles stretched his limbs and heard his bones pop and creak. The sleep had helped clear his head but had done nothing to repair the bones and muscles from the beating he had taken. He could still feel the swelling in his face, the tender fibers of his muscles in his stomach and back, and the sudden pain that shot up his chest when he breathed in. He would need more than a night’s sleep to heal. Miles would just stand and grit his teeth, while moving on toward the next battle in the war he called life.
Miles put his hand on his knee and could feel his heart slowing down.
The dreams faded before storing in his memory, he thanked the heavens for that. The last thing he wanted to see were more of those creatures in his sleep. When awake, like now, they were all he could think about. They would not rest until they gnawed on his bones with those sharp, pointy, yellow teeth. They wouldn’t stop coming until their claws shred him down the middle and left his insides pouring onto the ground. Then they would feast upon his corpse and leave nothi
ng for anyone to find. Miles Tiro would be a distant memory never remembered by a single soul and mourned by none.
Miles pushed the idea from his mind. It wouldn’t do any good to sit there in that old shed and fret about what could happen to him. He wouldn’t give it up, not today. Beyond all else, Miles loathed to admit it, but he feared death. That would keep him going at least for the time being. He pushed himself up off the soggy ground. He couldn’t tell where the mud, blood, and grim stopped and his clothes began. He hadn’t planned on winning a beauty contest. Miles lost his chance to be a lord and he would never get one again. His days of fancy attire were long in the past.
Now he only imagined a time away from these creatures and a time away from the damned king.
Outside, the morning air sent a shiver up Miles’ back. The sun already midway into the sky had yet to warm the ground. The horse had wandered off during the night. Miles felt no surprise, he had expected as much. It would be miles away. No use looking for it. The walk into town couldn’t be too far. Farmers didn’t put up sheds days from towns.
The sun’s rays made it easier to see the dirt path. A farm road stretched miles before them, just as Miles would have guessed. One beaten by the hoofs of horses and the wheels of carts. Miles took a deep breath. He hoped beyond hope they would reach the town before evening, but he didn’t put too much stock into it. Knowing his luck, it would be full on dark and arrows would fill them up before they were eaten by the crows.
Miles put one foot in front of the other. Better to get started. He didn’t bother to instruct Sammy to follow behind. Sammy reminded him of the hounds that lords sometimes kept in their keeps. He would follow without a word of instruction.
***
Sammy could feel something pulling at him. Like something familiar reaching out to swaddle him in its comfort. Almost like a distant memory trying to surface. Sammy still couldn’t put his finger on it.