by Kyle Prue
She glanced at the horses pulling them ever closer to the outpost where she could expect an army of new adversaries. The guard threw the dagger that was messy with his blood at her. It embedded in the platform beside her. She considered stabbing one of the horses because she didn’t have the ability to dodge the guard and manage the reins, but dismissed the idea quickly. She found the strength to cut down Imperial soldiers, but a horse was different. There was no way Lilly could ever kill a horse.
In another frantic thrust, he dipped the blade into her shoulder. She cried out as he let it dig deeper into her. She knew that in a few more moments he might stab her deep enough to nick her heart. That would be the end of her. Suddenly, the sword clattered to the ground next to her. Through the monotonous pounding of the rain she heard a thumping noise, as if his body had collapsed. She took advantage of the moment of peace and used the reins to pull the horses from a gallop into trot, then to a halt. She rolled off the platform and into the grass on the side of the pathway. She took the Guard’s sword with her. Her vision was blurred and her head swimming, but she kept an eye on the roof of the convoy. If the guard came lumbering off, she would attempt to stand and face him. Otherwise, she would lie on the sturdy ground and let it support her.
After she could see clearly, she stood and used her free hand to feel her back. There were no open wounds. That was lucky. She skeptically wandered back to the convoy. She could see that the guard’s body was lying still, one hand hanging off the edge. She pulled it hard and his body slipped off the convoy into the mud. She quickly found the affliction that had hindered his attempts to kill her. There was an arrow buried up to its feather in his forehead.
Lilly paled. She could very well still be in range of this mystery archer. She looked up and around at the uneven landscape of Volteria. She didn’t see a soul, but it would be incredibly easy for the archer to hide behind a ridge or on the other side of a hill. She pulled the arrow from the guard’s head and wiped it clean on the grass. Then she began the long jog home. The Golden Mug was safe, for today at least.
Chapter Ten
MISTY HOLLOW
BIANCA BLACKMORE
Misty Hollow was known for many things. For instance, it sold large red lanterns with depictions of its heroes on them. Ancient mayors and warriors adorned their streets in the form of brightly glowing lanterns. The lanterns were necessary, of course, because Misty Hollow was constantly draped in a think layer of fog. No one knew exactly why. Many citizens claimed the city was cursed because it had once unjustly executed its mayor after mistaking him for a common criminal. Others claimed it was due to the fact that the city was beneath a mountain and also happened to be on the seashore. In recent months, though, Misty Hollow became known for something entirely different: its strong military presence and the Imperial Lighthouse. Of all the burdens bestowed upon the people of Misty Hollow, the Lighthouse was by far the worst. It was continuously manned by a series of troops and tall enough to observe all “misdoings” in the village. It had turned the Imperial occupation into a rebel slaughter. A city once lit by colorful lanterns now had a very dark center.
Luckily Bianca Blackmore also had a dark side and she’d travelled to Misty Hollow for one reason and one reason only: to take control of the Lighthouse and loosen the Empire’s grip on Misty Hollow. There was a lot at stake for this mission. The Wolf had promised her a Lieutenant’s position if she could drive out the military forces occupying the lighthouse without using rebel reinforcements.
She crept through the city and made sure to keep out of the lighthouse’s gaze. It took nearly an hour to make it to the building across the street from the lighthouse. She readied her knives and steadied her breathing. After a quick glance around the corner, she gathered that there were two guards outside the main entrance lazily standing watch. She bolted around the corner silently and threw two knives as she ran. Each found its way into a guard’s neck. She made it to the door and held up their bodies so that their armor wouldn’t clang when they fell. She used her heel to knock on the main door and held her breath. The door opened. “Your shift isn’t over for--” The soldier screamed. Bianca dropped the bodies and spun away so she could throw her next knife. The soldier at the door fell to the ground and she bolted in. She threw her last five knives once she reached the center of the room. The three guards inside didn’t stand a chance. Their bodies clattered to the ground. She collected her knives and started for the staircase, but before her foot hit the first step she heard a cabinet open. A soldier popped out with a rifle in hand. “No moves, girly!” he yelled.
Bianca growled audibly. It was stupid not to check the room fully before heading upstairs. “Drop the knives,” he commanded.
She did. He laughed. “Let me guess? One of the Wolf’s protégés? I’ll send you back to him full of holes.”
Bianca prepared for the worst. Instead she heard the guard groan in pain and crumple to the floor. She turned and saw a spike sticking out of his chest. Anastasia pulled it out of him and rewrapped it around her wrist. “Are you getting slow, Bianca?”
Bianca glared at her. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a sister just drop by to say hello?”
“No,” Bianca said and hurried up the stairs.
“Can a sister drop by to help you waste these Imperial fools?”
Bianca paused. “Yes.”
They climbed the spiral staircase quickly and approached the next door without making a sound. Bianca kicked in the door on the first try. There was only one guard inside. He managed to dodge Bianca’s first knife, but her second found his eye. Anastasia’s spike silenced him before he could scream in pain. Bianca walked into the room, cautiously this time. She made sure to check all corners and side rooms. The room had a ladder in the center that led to a wooden hatch. Clearly this led to the very top of the lighthouse. “After you,” Anastasia said.
Bianca scowled and climbed. She was aware of how terrible this situation was tactically. There was no possible way to open the hatch and also get a jump on whoever was up there, unless they were looking completely away from the hatch. She opened it slowly and peered through. She saw an Imperial pair of legs facing the other way. If she were quiet enough she’d be able to get the jump on the soldier. She began to climb through the hatch when the hinges creaked. She winced. The soldier turned and stomped down on the hatch, effectively knocking her through the opening, off of the ladder and onto the wooden ground below. She howled as her shoulder cracked on the ground. The soldier peered down and readied his gun to finish Bianca off. Anastasia threw her spike upwards. “You might want to roll to the side,” she said to her sister. With one yank of the chain she pulled down the newly impaled soldier.
Bianca rolled out of the way and the soldier’s body slammed into the floor. Bianca sat up and glowered at Anastasia. “What?” Anastasia asked panting for air. “I warned you.”
Bianca looked like she was about to tell her sister off when suddenly bullets began to fly through the ceiling. Bianca somersaulted under a table and Anastasia backed against the wall. The remaining soldiers were shooting through the floor in an attempt to kill the intruders.
“They’re about to reload. Follow my lead!” Anastasia yelled.
The second bullets stopped flying Anastasia was up the ladder. She was able to dodge the sword waiting for her and she hurled her spike. Her offenses proved to be enough to distract the guards. Bianca followed up to the top floor and sent her knives flying. That was enough to eliminate the remaining soldiers. Anastasia pulled the one she’d hooked with the spike forward and knocked him unconscious with a jab from her elbow.
The two sisters fell to the ground in synchronized exhaustion. They lay there, breathing heavily and struggling to let the adrenaline pass. “Why are you here?” Bianca asked.
Anastasia continued to breathe heavily. She didn’t answer.
Bianca staggered to her feet and examined the top floor.
“What are you gonna do?” Ana
stasia asked.
“I’m gonna take down the Imperial flag and put out the light so that the rebels can take the lighthouse and form a stronghold here.”
“You know the Empire’s gonna be pretty upset, right?” Anastasia asked as she looked over the balcony.
“They’re already pretty upset,” Bianca said. “Why are you here, Anastasia?”
“Look, I know you’re upset that I went after those Lightborns a few months back. I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were your friends,” Anastasia said.
“You tried to kill my best friend’s little brother.” Bianca shuddered as she remembered the night Anastasia had tried to help Michael Taurlum kill Darius and even Rhys when he’d tried to help. Even today, Darius was suffering from the shock that Michael, his own flesh and blood, had hired Anastasia to kill him over the family inheritance. Bianca still reeled when she thought of how close Neil came to losing Rhys that night too. She had not forgiven Anastasia for her part in the whole mess.
“I didn’t know it was him,” Anastasia growled. “And, anyway, I’m still paying for that one.” She pulled up her shirt and exposed a stitched wound on her stomach. “I’m here to make it up to you, Bianca.”
Bianca narrowed her eyes. “You helping me clear the lighthouse doesn’t do it.”
“Your Lightborn friends are in trouble. And so are you.”
Bianca chuckled. “Because the empire is looking for us?”
“No, because the Imperial Doctor is looking for you. And so is the rest of the Pack.”
Bianca stared at Anastasia disbelievingly. “Oh,” she said quietly.
Anastasia rewrapped her chain and stared at her sister. “Yeah. Oh.”
Chapter Eleven
THE GOLDEN MUG
DARIUS TAURLUM
Darius hobbled back into the Golden Mug. Apparently everyone had gathered in the kitchen. “It’s done!” he called.
Rhys popped his head out. “Any sign of Lilly?”
“No,” Darius said. “If she didn’t take care of that guard we’re gonna be in real trouble though.”
Rhys walked over hesitantly. “This is probably the wrong time but…” he paused, “I don’t have any ‘Little Billy’ in my strategy book.”
Darius glared at him. “I seem to remember one.”
“You really can’t read, huh?” Rhys asked.
“And you can’t keep your voice down, can you?” Darius hissed. He could feel his cheeks reddening. “I appreciate you covering for me, but a good friend would stop there.”
Rhys furrowed his brow. “Well… Um…” He snapped his fingers. “Lilly.”
“What about Lilly?” Darius asked.
Rhys sat down at the table with Darius despite the fact that he was growling under his breath. “You and Lilly bicker constantly. You think she’s gonna let this one go?”
Darius shook his head and began a sentence, then decided not to finish it. “She’s…” he said. “I proved it.”
Rhys winced. “Really? Not everyone who can recite Little Billy is exactly a literary genius.”
Darius groaned. He didn’t want to draw attention to this conversation. “Do you have a solution or are you just here to make fun of me?”
“I’m not making fun,” Rhys persisted. “I’m offering my services. I can teach you.”
“To read?” Darius asked.
Rhys wasn’t shaken by Darius’s unenthused tone. “Absolutely. I can teach you within a few weeks. Best of all, you can prove Lilly wrong.”
“I’ve tried before. Letters don’t come easily to me.”
Rhys opened his strategy book and pulled out a stack of loose papers fastened together by a ring in the corner. “Cheat sheets,” he said handing them to Darius.
“Look, little buddy… I appreciate this but—“ Darius stopped as he noticed the drawings on the cards.
“There’s a weapon or something related to battle which represents each letter of the alphabet. A is for Axe, B is for Battle, C is for Catapult…” Rhys went through each card explaining the picture and pointing to the letter at the top.
Darius stared at the little cards, flipping through them as he quietly repeated Rhys’s words. Darius was obviously fascinated by the drawings. “You are quite the artist, little buddy.” Darius drummed his fingers on the table, deep in thought. “Fine,” he said. “We can practice when no one’s around.”
“Deal.” Rhys said. “You’ll be a scholar in no time.” He grabbed Darius’ hand that was drumming absently on the table and placed it on his forearm. Darius opened his mouth to object, but Rhys interjected, “Wait! Drum your fingers on your arm as you read the cards.”
Darius stared at Rhys in confusion. “Are you messing with me?”
“No! I would never do that! I take this very seriously. I tutored a lot of people when I was in school and I developed a theory.”
Darius chuckled. “I should have known there was going to be a Rhys Vapros theory involved.”
Rhys raised a finger for emphasis and said, “Yes, but it’s more than a theory really. I had unusual success as a tutor, so I know it works in many cases. Tap your fingers on your forearm as you study. It activates areas of the brain involved in—“
“All right! All right!” Darius interrupted, “ I don’t need a science lesson too. I’ll drum my fingers. Anything else? Stand on my head and sing?”
“Well actually, music can be quite helpful—“ Rhys stopped as the front door was pushed in and Lilly reappeared, drenched and panting. Hearing the door, Neil and Rebecca exited the kitchen.
“Are we in trouble?” Darius asked Lilly as he quickly slid the cards into his pocket.
Everyone besides Josephine had gathered in the main area. Miraculously, she’d slept through the fight. This was a blessing. She’d be furious to see that they were engaging in rebel acts. She wanted them to stay far away from the fires of war. Lilly was soaking wet and looked exhausted. Her royal blue coat looked navy blue when it was drenched in rainwater. She wasn’t answering the question. Darius rubbed his forehead nervously. “Because if I have to pack up all two of my belongings you should tell me now.”
Lilly dropped the arrow on the bar and crossed her arms. “He’s dead,” she said definitively.
Rhys examined her. “Where’s the arrow from?”
“Someone was looking out for me,” she said. “This has happened before. There’s some mysterious archer who’s been protecting me since we were in Altryon.”
The group looked at her skeptically. “Did you see him?” Neil asked. Lilly shook her head. “Any chance there’s just a lot of archers with incredibly bad aim?” Neil asked. “You saw how difficult it was for us to get out of the city’s walls. What are the chances that someone snuck through to protect you?”
Lilly was speechless.
“Well I carried those soldiers down to the shed by the river,” Darius said, changing the subject. “We’ve got an Imperial prison going now. Are we still pretending that we’re not part of this revolution?”
No one said anything. “Just asking,” Darius said. “I’m fine with living in denial.”
“If the danger’s over I’d love to hit the hay,” Neil said. “If that’s alright with you all.”
The rest of the group murmured in agreement. “At least you guys keep this place interesting,” Rebecca murmured as she trudged off into the kitchen. She always liked to stay and spend time with the Lightborns, but she also worked during the day, which wreaked havoc on her sleep schedule.
Once the main bar was empty, Darius fished the cards out of his pockets. He rubbed his eyes and then stared at the letters with new perspective. He was the kind of man who could lift ten times his weight and punch through solid concrete. How hard could learning twenty-six letters be?
Chapter Twelve
SHIPWRECK BAY ARMORY
THE PACK
The bell attached to the wooden door chimed as a customer entered Shipwreck Bay’s highest end armory. The smith sat behind the counter and
barely looked up to see who had entered. He was writing in a ledger. “Sword or shield?” he asked.
The customer giggled, then suppressed it with a fake cough. “Don’t you sell armor?”
“It’s a cute little saying,” the smith said unenthusiastically. “Do you want armor or weapons?
“I’m curious.” There was clearly something wrong with the customer. He was shaking. “Do you know what the best type of armor is for sneaking around?”
“I’d recommend no armor for being silent,” the smith said, glancing up from his work.
“No,” the customer said. “The best armor for sneaking is leather armor.”
“Why’s that?” asked the smith.
“Because it’s made of Hyde!”
The smith looked up at the customer and the stranger erupted into furious laughter. The smith’s eyes narrowed. “That’s funny,” he said without humor.
“I see your fingers reaching for a weapon,” the stranger said. “I’m curious. Is it because you remember me? Or because you hated my joke that much?”
The smith’s eyes widened in surprise and stayed wide as fear began to set in.
“We were best friends once, Tyler,” the customer said.
The smith scrambled backwards. “Lester Buchwald,” the smith said, recognition finally dawning. “You unholy demon. I will kill you if you take another step forward.”
The Hyena shook his head and bared his metal teeth. “No one outside my family calls me Lester anymore, not since the orphanage. Out here they call me something else.”
The smith grabbed a sword. “What do you want, Hyena?”
“I just want to catch up!” the Hyena giggled. “I want to talk about the orphanage. I want to talk to you about your life! Consider this our twenty-year reunion… After all…” His eyes shone with evil intent. “Everyone who made it out is here.”