by Adria Eustis
“We'll find it,” he said.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JANINA
October, Year of the Pearl Acacia
Cain entered buildings, throwing debris out of the way in side, as if her backpack might be under it. He lifted rocks with ease and kicked down rotten doors. She followed behind in silence, a shyness suddenly stricken upon her. Cain smelled like tree sap and honey, her new favourite scents, where the hell had he been? Every dark corner of every decrepit age-old relic of a home was searched, after a half hour, she finally came across her belongings and gathered them up. She checked her circle, yellow. Why wasn't it red? He was right next to her.
“Weird, my traffic-lights aren't working.”
Cain was still kicking falling rafters away, still searching, now it became apparent to her why he'd seemed intent on searching the obviously wrong buildings, he was looking for something else.
“What exactly are you looking for?” She asked.
He dropped an ancient cooking pot to the ground with a rattling clash. So much for being quiet.
“A weapon,” he said, “never know what you'll find out here.”
“Hmm. Any idea why my circle thing isn't showing up red?”
“Changes when another tablet is near by, if I had a tablet, then it would be red.”
“Where's yours?”
He shrugged, looked through window, “nothing here, let's go.”
Nina followed behind him again, as he continued his searching of buildings, her legs ached trying to match his quick speed. Every new place they entered, she prayed for a stack of grenades or something, anything, so that they could get out of this place. The grey clouds overhead had come on by surprise, and though it was but mid-day it had quickly turned dark and murky. The sunny morning had been scared off by the gunshots, or maybe she'd actually died and her spirit walked in a ghostly dimension. There was a rumble of thunder, followed by the sound of rain pelting the wild plants around her. Cain kept on as usual, ignoring the water that washed over his face. Nina put her backpack over her head and shivered in the cold.
“You should be more careful you know, you just walk through those doors like you own the place, could be someone in side waiting to pounce on you,” she said, wondering if he'd hear her over the pounding rain.
He laughed, this little sigh of a laugh, and cracked a mocking half a smile.
“I don't mean to be rude or anything, but can't we just do with what we got, I have knives, and my rifle,” Nina said. Though her rifle was empty of ammunition, her contenders wouldn't know that. Her belly rumbled almost as loud as the thunder.
Cain kicked away the remnants of some long-dead villagers, vase collection and dropped his backpack on the ground.
“You found something?” She asked.
“Not yet.”
He pulled out an opened bag of buttered pop-corn and handed it to her.
“Never thought I'd be so excited to see pop-corn,” she said, digging her hand in.
“I hate it.”
“Who ate half of it then?”
“Sometimes we have to do things we hate doing,” he stared out the doorway as he sat on in the cleared place. She joined him, wiping her drenched hair away. Trust that she'd look like crap on her first real date. Was it a date? I mean, pop-corn in a brick green-house with half a roof, on a battlefield, with a hot mysterious guy who saved her life twice when he's actually supposed to taking it from her? That had to be a date, right? He could be with any one of the other twenty or so girls out there, yet here he sat with her. Ack. But, she paused half way through her tenth mouthful, but, can't forget the whole reason he was put here in the first place.
“Why are you helping me?” She asked, trying to meet his gaze, but it was as though she was repelled like a magnet.
No response. Irritating.
The rain splashed in at her through the big open doorway. The scent of wet earth reminded her of Aunt Maire. Reminded her of how nothing good ever happened to her. Only pain and misery.
She let out a yelp as a bolt of lightning zapped the ground right outside the door. Blinding white and sizzling with heat, it crashed into the mud and flashed in a ball against the floor three times before disappearing. The forked pattern emblazoned across her vision. Heart thumping in her ribs, she jumped once again with a second yelp, in the shock, she had pushed herself back from the doorway and ended up with her hand on his outstretched thigh and had settled between that and his other leg that was bent at the knee. Nina bounded to her feet.
“Did you see that? Course you did. That was terrifying.” Hand on her chest, she tried to calm down.
“Which bit?” He laughed.
She kicked him lightly in the shin, and tried not to break her serious face.
“I'm not leaving till there's no more storm,” she said.
“Alright.”
Nina found a new place to sit, far away from the lightning, against a stone carved fireplace. Cain stayed where he was, back to her. Over trusting, who was to say she wouldn't just stab him in the back? Not that she wanted to, but it annoyed her that he assumed her weak. Minutes passed in awkward silence, the rattling thunder and rain did all the talking. Then her info-pad switched screen, some had bit the dust. Please don't be a friend. Cain was about to flip it on to it's back.
“Wait, I want to see it,” she called, dashing back to her stuff.
They huddled around it, “why?” He asked.
“Need to see what we're up against, got to plan ahead, also you can get an idea of their whereabouts, plus I need to know my friends are alright.”
His deep blue eyes met hers, his eyelashes rose up like a wave in an ocean of lust. Nina felt goosebumps all over her body, it was hard to peel her glance from him, but she didn't want to give anything away.
On the screen they watched a duel between a human girl and an Elven girl. The human, orange haired, held a long, thin, curved blade. Her confidence to win was apparent in her strides, as they faced off on a patch of daisies. The Elven girl had a shorter, wider sword in her hand, and a brown leather bow scabbard on her back.
Orange hair, slashed downwards with both hands, meeting the elf's blade. They pushed together for a moment before both stepping back. Holding each other firmly in their stares. Orange hair swung again, going for the chest, the other dodged but lost her balance on the rain-drenched grass, fell and rolled away. Orange hair yelled something, then carefully moved towards her. Her blade glistened with water as she rose it high and charged it downwards into the elf, who was lay on her side. Again their swords clashed together, Nina thought the Elven girl a goner. She bit her lip in anticipation, but then the elf kicked out her foot. Orange hair fell as her feet slipped out from other her. The elf upped and run, slipping and sliding through the wet field. She stopped at some distance, reached behind for her bow. Orange hair stood, raised her thin blade as if she might somehow block an arrow with it. But her judgement was off, an arrow pierced her neck. “Sheeba Henoch, 7/50 – Nerelle Kenslee Martyred,” it read.
Nina flicked it over to the scoreboard, phew, everyone she cared about was still breathing. And so was Astra, with 7 points now. Astra was right, she was good, she was most likely going home.
“I've only 3 points,” Nina said, “and you've only 2. How are you only 2?”
Before he could even answer, the score screen was gone and another recap began to play. Her eyes bulged at the wolves fangs once more. It scared her more than anything. Cain pulled the info-pad closer his way. “What the..” he said.
“I know, it's almost the same size as me.”
“A shape-shifter?” He asked, fixed intently on the image.
“Yeah, called Zane, he's a gladiator. You haven't been watching?”
“No. They didn't give me one of these.”
Nina didn't watch closely, she already knew she wouldn't stand a change against the indomitable beast. All she could hope for was to not come face to snout with him. “Zane Fiske, 17/20 – Lance Keen, Deacon Fernaxe Martyre
d.” She caught the text at the end, and a sickening shot of two mauled and bloodied men, twitching under an apple tree in the rainstorm.
“Three more points and he'll be gone, let's hope he finds some others before us,” Nina said.
Cain handed her the info-pad, he stepped out side in the thunder and checked for signs of people. “What's your story?” He asked, leaning in the doorway.
“I shouldn't be here, that's my story,” she replied.
“No one should.”
Nina scoffed, squeezed water from her ponytail. “I shouldn't even be anywhere near you, I know exactly who you are Cain.”
“Then walk away, Nina.”
A weird but nice feeling ran up the back of her neck at the realisation that he knew her name. Must have been Lasiah, had to be.
“Morally I would, but tactically I won't.”
He nodded, if that slight tilt of the head could be classed as a nod. “Morally I should tell you that you don't know anything about me, but tactically I won't.”
Her nose wrinkled, but she aught to ignore it, nothing he said made much sense.
“At least let me know one thing, why do you want to team up with me?”
A short tress of thick brown hair fell across his eye, he stared down at the muddy puddles, drip, drop, the rain was trailing off. She'd not heard the roar of thunder for some minutes now.
“Time to go,” he said.
Sighing, she threw back her head and picked up her backpack. But she grabbed it the wrong way and her little glass orb rolled out.
“What is that?” Cain asked.
“No idea, found it yesterday.”
“Let me see.” He reached out and took the orb, studying it closely.
“Its just an ornament.” She shrugged.
“Its a mine,” he said, carefully placing it in the pocket of his unfastened combat vest. “twist the middle to activate it, arming time is somewhere around a minute. It'll blow the next time it's touched.”
“No way, it's just a teeny crystal ball.”
“I've seen hundreds of these, translucent tickers, made by alchemists.”
“Of course you have.”
“Do you have dynamite back at home in display cases?” He jeered, pleased with himself.
Nina folded her arms, stared him down. “Yes and grenades hanging on strings for birthday celebrations.”
Cain headed outside, he gave off a faint laugh whilst she couldn't see his face, she smiled and blushed.
“Where to?” She asked.
“Think we're about done searching around here, we'll head south and see what we find.”
As they trekked through the ruins of the village, Nina liked that she didn't feel as vulnerable as she had alone, she didn't jump out of her skin at every strange noise, or walk so slowly as to not make a sound with her footsteps. Cain made her feel safer, he was strong and bold, and it made her heart flutter to think that he had chosen her to protect. But she hated the whole uncertainty of the bigger picture. Was he using her as bait? He'd gotten two points off of her back already.
CHAPTER TWENTY
ADMIRAL ADAM
January, Year of the Pearl Acacia
...“I've travelled for weeks, my men are tired, frostbitten and ready to savage each other for meat. Let's hear what you have to say, then I can decide whether to kill you for wasting my time or not,” Admiral Adam said as he ducked under the frozen doorway.
The druid pulled back the hood of her quilted jacket, a dozen silver rings sparkled in the small sliver of sunlight that struggled to reach them at the back of the ice cave. Her hazel, frizzy braid stood out against the whiteness, and lines of red were painted across her face. Adam thought it strange that in one hand she held a long black coat but he did not even flinch at the heaving great polar bear beside her. Melanie was a druid, he knew from experience, their gift for taming any animal no matter how wild.
“I am a druid,” she said.
Her slow speech only angered him.
“I'm aware of this – good for you.”
“The nymphs have spoken.”
“Hurry it up woman.”
“They show me treasure.”
“I know. My wife was a druid. I know all about druids, Nymphs and ancient treasures. Get on with it. I'm not here for a class on magic. What information do you have for us?”
“You're rude.” She folded her arms. The bear seemed to nudge her.“You're lucky that I speak for someone else,”she continued.
“You call me out of the blue and insist we speak face to face, you know of my mission, no one knows of my mission. Who do you speak for? What have you for me? Get on with it.”
“You seek the prince.”
“Tell me something I don't already know.” He sparked up his cigarette, the tiny bit of heat from his lighter was bliss on his skin.
“I know that you have no idea why you seek the prince.”
“Again something I already know.”
“I know the reason your wife sent you here.”
“I'm listening.”
There was a thud, one of his men had passed out on in the snow behind him. The others tended to him, each one as weak as the next. This mission would be the end of them if they didn't leave here with a great hope.
“A Nymph spoke to Melanie one last time before she perished.”
Adam tried to clench the fist in his frozen mitten, was this waste of time going to get on with it?
“Out with it woman!”
“The Nymph had discovered treasure, left behind by the gods.”
“I know, I know what the god damn Nymphs do!”
“But the Nymph did not get time to to tell her the location.”
“And is the Nymph here now?” He looked around at the blank cave, knowing his efforts futile, but hoping to make a point. Adam knew the Nymphs only showed their faces to the druids, the caretakers of nature and animals.
“She is not. The Nymph Esmina had asked Melanie to harbour the run-away child prince. Esmina was to give Melanie the location of the treasure as soon as she could prove the prince was safe. But your wife succumbed soon after the message, and the task was given to me instead.”
“No, no. That can't be it. Melanie would not send me on a five year mission to find the prince, just to babysit him in return for a measly trinket.”
Adam paced up and down, the slipperiness of the ice irritated him. Everything irritated him. “I loved that woman, may her soul rest in peace. But those pieces of darned blasted junk, I'll never understand why she cared so much for junk!”
“There was a reason the Nymph chose your wife.”
“Go on spit it out.” He stamped his cigarette butt out.
“Because she was married to the highest ranking military man.”
He laughed erratically, “I thought the Nymphs were all wise and all seeing?”
“The highest ranked in King Everart's army.”
“When my wife died, Everart was long dead, and his army long dismissed. Should your idiot Nymph have not kicked down the door at Field Marshal Boston's home instead? He leads the Peace Bringers. My navy was abolished when the oceans were declared off limits. Me and my men here are the lucky ones, the rest of Everart's military was murdered in cold blood, the day that bastard stole the crown.”
“And so you understand why you were required.”
“So help you woman, if we leave here emptied handed we may as well die out there in the blizzard. And you'll be coming with us.” Adam shook his fist at the druid. What little patience he had left was wearing thin, and the mission looking like a waste of time. Melanie had adored the Nymphs, she had told him many times how blessed she felt to be chosen to be visited by the elemental creatures. She must not have realised the prince would have been so hard to find, over wise she'd not have wasted her dying words to send him looking.
“The treasure you see. Needed to be in the hands of the right army. The army who fought for the right king.”
“Well here it is,
here's your blasted army.” He raised his arms and looked around the ice-cave at his sorry state of a fleet. Their ships were gone, sank to the bottom of the ocean along with their hope. Wanted dead or almost-dead by the king.
“A new army for the new ruler will be built in due time, and your help will be needed when it comes to that.”
“And the Nymph told you all this?” He laughed, “Perhaps in sixty or seventy years time when Dederick croaks of old age, and his son or daughter - whatever he might have - takes the throne, perhaps then we will have a decent king or queen. Death by old age is the only way he'll make it to his grave. And I suppose I too will gone by then.”
“Have faith Admiral.”
He sighed, this bitch was driving him crazy. “If you were given the task after Melanie, bless her soul, was no longer alive to complete it. Why am I still involved? If you called me here to tell me I was off the hook and could forget it, why not just tell me over the phone, save me the sodding effort it took to get here.”
“Five years ago when I accepted the quest, I promised I'd search for the prince, in return for the artifact. But your mission to protect him never changed, I was asked to bring you here. The artifact must be in the hands of the army, like I said.”
“And so you want me to help you find the prince, so that I can take some pissy trinket home and look after it? For what? What's it do?”
“What do you want most in the world Admiral Adam?”
“My wife back in my arms.”
“I'm afraid resurrection is impossible.”
“Then why ask?”
“Apart from that? What do you want most in the world?”
“To do as she asked me to do as she lay bleeding out all over our child's bed. To avenge her death. To see the bloodthirsty ass-hole who ordered her dead look into my eyes as he took his last breath. For the world to be like it used to be, before the people became puppets to the king's strict regime.”
“This trinket, Admiral Adam, will give you all of that.”
He choked on his own saliva, “I see you're deluded, and wasting our time.” Adam turned to leave, ushering his men out of the entrance...