by Eric Vall
“Skra!” he said and nuzzled under my chin.
All the hard work in trying to be quiet so Zoie could catch a few more restful minutes was for nothing because he then attacked her next just like an excited Labrador.
“Oh!” Zoie giggled as the strange little crow-moth tried to burrow into her hair. “I missed you, too, Roofus.”
I looked around when I remembered something Shay had said.
“Roo, were you supposed to bring us anything?” I asked, and the little creature popped up and blinked at me with his big scarlet eyes.
“Kaw!” he said as if he just remembered something and then flapped out of the tent again like a whirling dervish.
I looked at Zoie as she sat up with her disaster hair and pillow lines on her face, and I was really disappointed I got dressed because she looked ravishing.
Of course, I could just take all the clothes off…
Before I could act on my baser instincts, the crow-moth barged back into the tent with a small envelope in his black beak.
“These must be the papers Shay was telling us about,” I said and crawled back across the bedroll so I could sit while Zoie got dressed.
I pulled out an official-looking document from the envelope that had my registration and race details, a map of Valley City, a ticket to the event which was probably for Zoie, and a voucher for one night at the Rider’s Inn in the Palace Square.
“We should probably stay out of sight until we are ready to go to the Inn,” Zoie said as she finished buckling her armored belt.
“What should we do for the rest of the day, then?” I asked and was startled when she threw the short sword at me.
“We spar,” she said with a broad grin. “The blade will always be another of your wives.”
“That’s a good way to think of it,” I said with an answering smile, and together we both packed up our campsite so we could hit the road.
We walked for a bit and shared a simple meal of what was left of our provisions until we ran across a grassy meadow Zoie proclaimed was perfect for sparring. I dropped our pack as she removed Roofus from her shoulder so she could take her place in the center of the meadow.
Then I followed her example and faced her with my sword held at the ready.
“Ren will use anything to his advantage in order to win, so you must maximize your surroundings.” Zoie looked up at the morning sun and shielded her eyes. “If you keep the sun in your opponent’s eyes, it will make it harder for him to see you, so look around for natural barriers that can protect your rear or flank and don’t stop moving.”
“Got it,” I said.
“Good.” Zoie nodded, and then she leapt at me with her katana raised high.
I blocked her with a clash of my blade, but I saw what she meant about the sun because the angle she got me at caused me to squint and see spots. I jumped back and dodged another one of her powerful strikes, and then I circled around her so she was forced to squint.
“Well done.” She smirked, and we circled each other in a steady constant dance. “Now, when you parry, try to turn it around into an attack. Try to strike me, and I will demonstrate.”
“Okay,” I said and then brought my sword down to try and strike her head.
In a series of moves I could barely keep track of, Zoie stepped into the strike, blocked me with the force of a sledgehammer, and pushed her blade against mine to effectively displace my sword’s momentum. Then I was the one on the back-foot as she rallied a double-fire strike that I struggled to block and was forced to leap away.
“You see how I went from defending to attacking?” she asked when we stopped for a moment to catch our breaths.
My heart was pounding with excitement, and I couldn’t stop the wild grin from stretching across my face.
I brought my sword up at the ready. “Show me that again.”
Zoie and I then proceeded to spend the whole day sparring around the meadow and in the surrounding glades.
By the time we were half-way through the day, I realized every sparring exercise was designed to build upon the fundamentals she’d been teaching me from the beginning.
We practiced awareness and focus techniques, and after I mastered a cool little combo, or caught her by surprise, she took me through the paces of trying to trigger the time-trance. Nine times out of ten, triggering it still required some sort of extreme adrenaline response, like a projectile flying at me without warning.
“I bet it’s the split second I think ‘oh, shit, I’m not going to make it out of the way in time’ that causes it,” I said as I took a bite of the small salty fish we just got done roasting over a small fire.
The handy little crow-moth was good for more than just finding gold, and I threw him the last charred piece of my lunch, which he gobbled down like a glutton.
“Are you saying I need to put you into even more danger?” Zoie teased with a coy little smirk.
“Maybe you do,” I said with one arched eyebrow, and then I stood up and offered my hand as if inviting her to a waltz. “Again?”
“Very well,” she said back and playfully dabbed at her lips with a cloth before taking my hand.
And with that, we were back to sparring hard until the sun went down, and it was time for us to head to the Rider’s Inn.
When we broke the tree line, Zoie and I just stopped and marveled at the sparkling city that was terraced up the low lush peaks. Stone lanterns similar to the ones in Gatetown bathed the white stone streets and illuminated the rectangular buildings carved into the hills, and where there weren’t any buildings, there were various fountains and gardens that blossomed with trees and flowers.
If Gatetown was something like a steampunkian Venice, then the main city of Mec Valley was what I imagined Atlantis was like before it sank.
The only time I passed through the Palace Square was in the carriage to the Asher Lord’s Blue Night Gala, and I was too nervous to really pay attention, but now Zoie and I were walking the metropolitan streets of the terraced city and taking in the sights of the people and nightlife.
I glanced down at the map, and it was pretty easy to navigate the wide streets until we were able to find the tavern. Once inside, we were able to use our handy voucher, and we were shown to our room by a young man who was insistent on carrying our bags.
The room was pretty quaint, but it had a stunning view of the city, and after we’d settled in, I perched myself on the sill and let my mind wander.
The night settled over the Palace Square, and still, there was no sign of Horus bearing my forged herald weapon, and I wondered when I should start worrying about this detail. A big part of me also hoped the guy was okay, given the fact he was an exile, and that apparently meant he was not allowed to mingle with the other citizens of Nata Isle.
“Will you put your mind at ease and join me?” Zoie’s voice brought me out of my worries and back into the present, and she patted the bed next to her
I smiled at her when I saw how she was laying on her side with the covers lifted in an invitation. She was right. I needed to focus on tomorrow because it would be a lot more difficult to carry through with the plan if I didn’t win the audience with Asher Mec.
Not impossible, just more difficult, but I already swore to myself that either way, Ren was going down, even if I had to wing it and kill him with a dessert spoon.
So, I listened to my wife and shut off my mind as I crawled into bed and let her wrap around me from behind.
It was nice to be the little spoon now and again, and it only took seconds after my head touched the pillow before I was out for the count.
Sleep was restful, for the most part, but I had to admit a full fanfare of brassy trumpeting instruments was not my idea of a room service wake up call first thing in the morning.
“Goddess above,” Zoie groaned in a tone that sounded just as irritated as I was at the jarring alarm.
Even Roofus seemed to glare when he stuck his head out from under his wing.
“What
is that?” I grumbled as I tried to bury my head under the pillows.
“It is the call that signifies all Riders are in and people can start bidding on the racers,” she said and reluctantly sat up. “If Ren didn’t know about you participating in the races before, he definitely will now.”
Just then, a knock on the door sounded, and Zoie and I both froze. I put my finger in front of my lips and reached into the travel pack for one of the daggers Zoie saw fit to bring with us on our journey.
Then I pulled the short but lethal blade out of its scabbard and crept toward the door.
“Asher Alex?” piped a familiar voice through the door, and I rolled my eyes at myself before I put away the dagger.
“Rylan,” I said with a grin as I opened the door.
“Good to see you, sir!” the sandy-haired stable boy chirped with his usual sunny enthusiasm. “Prosper and I just got here, and I am supposed to inform you to meet me in stall number twenty-five at the Palace Arena.”
“Good job taking care of him, Ry.” I patted the affection-starved kid on the shoulder.
“It’s my pleasure, sir!” the boy said with a happy wiggle and then turned on his heels so he could run back to tending to Prosper.
When I closed the door again, I discovered Zoie was gathering our things and even tugging on her armored belt and shoulder guards. I followed her example and quickly got ready in my standard green tunic and gear.
“Ready?” I asked her as I finished tying my travel cloak.
She simply nodded and raised her deep hood, and with that, we were both exiting the Rider’s Inn and entering the busy square.
Even though it was still pretty early, even by Aventoll standards, the heart of this metropolitan city was already bustling with the excitement of the day’s events.
Vendors who weren’t there last night packed the perimeter of the square with their stalls selling various items like jewelry, wares, and clothing. People of high society milled around with their raised noses, and they were followed by escorts and entourages shading them from the sun with parasols and big wafting leaf fans.
“May I have the pack?” Zoie asked with an intelligent gleam in her eyes.
“What are you going to do?” I wondered even though I handed her the pack without hesitation.
“There is just one errand I have to run,” she said and then kissed me on the lips. “I will meet you at the stables.”
“Hurry back to me,” I said and tweaked her tail just to see her shoot that playful glare at me.
I grinned as I watched her slip through the crowd with Roofus in her wake, and then I made my way to the stables with the map I was ever grateful to Shay for having the foresight to include.
Of course, it was kind of hard to miss the massive Palace Arena where the stables were housed in, especially because it was surrounded by sky-scraping turreted stands that reminded me of a Quidditch Pitch out of Harry Potter. Each tall stand had a long streaming flag flapping in the breeze, and I counted eight of them all with different colors.
I entered the stables just as Rylan was leading Prosper out of his stall.
“Hello, sir!” Rylan greeted with his typical gawky wave. “I was just going to lead him on a run.”
“Excellent,” I said as I scrubbed Prosper’s flank, and he whistled as I pulled out one of those purple ash-roots I snagged from the open-aired market on the way over. Then he sucked it up like a shop-vac, and I laughed. “Pig.”
“Brightwood!” a nasally voice barked out, and I turned around with my hand on the hilt of my sword.
“Rylan, take Prosper outside and try to find Zoie,” I said as Asher Ren’s footsteps crunched closer over the gravel.
“Brightwood, I know you’re here!” he yelled out again as he rounded the corner.
“Ren,” I said with a level glare when he stopped in front of me.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you are on dangerous ground,” the golden-eagle man growled, and I saw him clench his fist around his cutlass.
“What are you talking about?” I asked steadily as I kept my eye on his blade that I knew was poisoned. I knew he had this epic reveal planned when he was ready to exact his vengeance, but at the same time, he was a bit of a loose cannon, and he didn’t care about the Duelist Rite protocol when it came to me.
“You joined the races,” he hissed.
“Yes?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Why?”
“Because I felt like it,” I shrugged. “I have a new mount, and the idea seemed fun.”
“You honestly expect me to believe you just joined the races just because?” he spat.
“I’m not plotting something if that’s where you’re going with this,” I said and then crossed my arms over my chest in a show of nonchalance even though it made me twitchy to remove my hand from my sword.
“Please, you’ve been plotting ever since you arrived, Traveler,” Ren said and stepped into my space.
He was trying to be intimidating, but the gray floofy feather that suddenly landed on his head kind of ruined the effect.
My eyes darted upward, and I did a subtle double-take at the familiar figure of Horus as he balanced on the rafters like a ninja.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said to Ren and then flicked my eyes up again.
Horus tapped a finger against his lips with a mischievous grin. Under one arm he held a squirming pigeon-looking creature that was responsible for the gray feather, and when he noticed me, he aimed the pigeon creature’s butt over Ren’s head.
“Don’t lie, you snake,” Ren hissed. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but just know whatever plan you have is going to fail.”
A gloopy glop of bird shit landed right on his brown ponytail just then, and I couldn’t help but release an obnoxious guffaw.
“Brightwood!” The eagle-man’s snapping copper eyes stabbed at me like daggers as he reared back in offense to my laughter.
“You are ridiculous,” I said and was even more amused when his shitty feathered ponytail whipped back and forth as he looked around.
“Wha--” he started to screech.
“Looking for a witness so you can Duel me for insulting you?” I called him out and stepped into his space. “Or is slaughtering people in their beds or when their backs are turned more your style?”
“You try to speak to me about honor, and yet you have been rumored to be desecrating the ancient cliff ruins,” he growled.
“Say what you want.” I shrugged as if he was an insignificant bug under the sole of my shoe. “But when I beat you, I won’t have to result in dirty tricks or things like poison to Duel you.”
“Poison?” Ren said as his shifty eyes darted from side to side. “You don’t know of what you speak.”
“Maybe not,” I said, but then I glanced pointedly down at his sword.
“Watch your back,” the eagle-man sneered as he turned sharply on his heels.
I rolled my eyes and watched the white spot of shit bob on his ridiculous ponytail as he stalked out of the stables in his shiny knee-high boots.
Twat.
Horus released the poor pigeon creature and then jumped down from the rafters as if he was a trapeze artist.
“What a scat-kicker,” the falcon-man said as he offered me his arm to shake. “I can’t wait to watch you kill him.”
“Have you seen Shay?” I asked as I grasped his forearm.
“I saw her briefly this morning after she got done talking with the race coordinators,” Horus said, but his gold-green eyes were shadowed with a concerned expression.
“How was she?” I hesitated to ask.
“Weary and worn,” he sighed, but then he brightened up and clasped my shoulder. “But for the first time, I have seen her hope.”
Then Horus released my shoulder and reached behind him for the familiar shape of the Roman-like sword Zoie gave me.
“Horus, you’re the man,” I said as I unsheathed the gleaming sword. The blue
tinge the blade used to have after melding with the herald core was gone, and if it wasn’t for the etching of a sapphire triangle right at the blade’s base, it wouldn’t have look changed at all.
“This is a powerful weapon and will bring you success only if your ambition is righteous,” the metallurgist said in a hollow voice that left his eyes glowing faintly. “Use it well and liberate my sister.”
“I will,” I said and returned the blade to the scabbard. “Are you going to stick around?”
“I really have other business to attend to, but I’m sure I’ll be around somewhere,” he said with a roguish grin.
“Take care.” I shook his hand again. “And thanks.”
“I have every faith in you, Brother,” he said as he raised his hood over his black-feathered head and then disappeared into the stable shadows without a sound.
I looked back at the sword in my hand and eagerly swapped it with the substitute sword. When I gripped the large pommel, it felt comforting and right in my hand, almost like it was an extension of my own arm.
The final pieces were coming together, and as a loud trumpet pierced the air, my blood began to race.
Shay was right. The stage was set, and I was ready to play my part.
Chapter 21
After the second call of the trumpet, I sheathed my weapon and went to find Rylan and Prosper.
The kid was a frantic ball of energy as he basically shoved me up onto my mount and then dragged us past the warm-up area and toward the doors of the arena with all the other riders.
“Rylan, where’s Zoie?” I asked as I turned my head back and forth to try and spot her familiar black ears.
“She’s in the stands, sir,” Rylan said, but before I could ask any more questions, the gigantic doors opened, and the roar of the arena flooded over me like a tsunami.
The procession in front of me took to the sky one by one, and I had no choice but to follow suit.
There were about twenty other riders each on a majestic canterfly similar to Prosper, and all the steeds bore a set of kaleidoscope-jeweled wings that caught the morning sun like stained-glass.
My mount snuffed and shook out his silky black mane, and a flash of me on the back of one of the shining white steeds with resplendent wings popped up inside my mind with a spike of resentment.