Catching Pathways

by Danielle Berggren

  Maeve’s chest tightened. “So, by doing this, I’m giving you greater power, power that you’ll use to kill Sebastian.”

  “And complete the trials, yes.”

  Maeve held silent for a moment. Rodan set his hand on the table, resting it between them like an invitation. That tension that built between them before came back, but Maeve ignored it. She pushed her empty glass away and kept her eyes from Rodan’s. She spoke to the table. “I don’t want you to kill him. He’s ill. Something got to him, I know it. He’s not doing this all on his own.”

  The shake of his head was visible even with her eyes held downcast. “Even if he is, if I let him live, he would only cause a greater problem.”

  Maeve bit her bottom lip and looked up at him. “Then take him to another world. One where he won’t bother you. Take him somewhere far away, where he’s no threat to anyone. If you remove the base of his power, wouldn’t he be a normal person, anyway?”

  Staring at him, she noted that his black eye held tiny imperfections in it. There were flecks of silver around the pupil, so that it looked as though she gazed at a picture of a starry sky with a black hole in the middle. His other eye, green as spring grass, seemed to shift as she looked, the green turning a muddy brown, and then to blue.

  Maeve gasped. “What’s happening to your eyes?”

  Rodan blinked and pulled his hand back, his chair scraping against the wood floor. “It’s nothing,” he said, the words too quick and biting to be true. “I’ll keep what you said in mind. If there is a way to safely pull Sebastian into another world, I will. But I may not have a choice, Maeve. You have to understand that.”

  “Fine,” she snapped, rising on wobbling legs. She stumbled toward the couch and practically fell into it. She sat staring at the floor and her bare feet for some time before her head rose and she looked at Rodan again. His eyes fixed on her, and from this distance she could not see if his colored eye shone green or some other hue. “I just want my friend back, Rodan,” she said in a near whisper. “I want everyone to be okay.”

  His hand clenched into a fist and then relaxed. “I understand.”

  Maeve stared at him for a little while longer before another wave of exhaustion threatened to overtake her. Her stomach full of good food and wine, and her body aching from the days’ travels, her eyelids grew heavy. She lay down, pulling a blanket almost entirely over her body until only her face remained exposed. The last sight she beheld before sleep dragged her under was Rodan, standing at the fire with his hands behind his back, staring into the flames.

  Her last thoughts were, What is he thinking about?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Rodan

  THE NEXT MORNING, Rodan rose before the dawn and made his way down to the kitchen. Yolanda, the innkeeper, had just begun her preparations for the mornings’ meal and looked up with a twinkle and a smile when he entered the room.

  “You’re up early,” she remarked.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I had a few questions for you.”

  She rolled out biscuit dough and began to cut it into circular rounds with the rim of a glass coated in flour. She looked up at him. “Ask away, my dear.”

  “Last night, my companion and I were tired, but we noticed that the city is awfully quiet. At the same time, we heard from you that you’re having a festival. What is it, and what is going on?”

  The woman blinked, a flurry of movement, before turning back to her work with even greater efficiency. “‘Tis the lottery,” she said with a murmur. “We all have to gather to participate. It’s a sad time, but we try to make the best of it after it’s over.”

  He leaned a hip against a counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “What kind of lottery?”

  The innkeeper shook her head. “Best be keeping away from it, my dear. You’re a traveler and exempt from it, so long as you stay away from the stadium.” She pursed her lips. “That’s all I’ll be saying about that.”

  Rodan sighed and fished another gold coin out of his purse. He held it up, then placed it on the counter top and slid it toward her. She made a grab for it, but he kept his finger pressed down on it, pinning it on the polished wood. “I need more information than that.”

  She eyed him and the coin, swallowing hard and looking around to see if anyone else lingered near them. She nodded, once, and asked in a matter-of-fact voice, “What do you want to know?”

  Rodan smiled. “Everything.”

  Yolanda was very giving with information, now that coin was on the table. A few times in her telling she strayed off course and Rodan gently steered her back on task, but she spoke with him for the greater part of an hour in the corner of the kitchen while her maids and cooks moved around them.

  At the end of it, Rodan thanked her, gave her an additional gold piece, and gathered a tray of toast, jams, and fruit to take back up to the room and the sleeping Maeve.

  When he entered the room, she stirred and then shot up to a sitting position, clutching the blanket to her chest. She glared at him and then cradled her head in her hand. “Oh, man, I had way too much to drink last night.”

  He wished he had insisted on her drinking more water, but he had not wanted to push things. A tension lay between them, like a cord winding its way tighter and tighter. She confirmed it when she mentioned the shifting colors of his eyes, something that only showed itself under certain circumstances. So, she desired him. A good first step in his personal challenge. But it would not be nearly enough.

  Rodan scowled, his back to Maeve. He hated that precious time and energy was redirected to Sebastian’s ridiculous challenge. The trials were much more pressing, and things would only get worse.

  Maeve stood beside him without him noticing her movements. He blinked, startled, but she only yawned and snatched a piece of buttered toast off a plate, biting into one corner, her eyes bleary and unfocused. She yawned again, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, and flopped down on to one of the empty dining chairs. “I’m not used to getting up this early.”

  Rodan glanced at the window, the diamond-shaped panes of glass too fogged up to see anything out of, but the light was the soft, subtle hue of dawn. “I’m sorry if my moving around disturbed you.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not a problem, I’ll get used to it. I did before.”

  Rodan pulled out the chair opposite her and sank down into it. A small bowl of sliced peaches sat between them, and he stared as she slipped a wedge between her lips. Such nice lips they were. Shapely. Soft looking. He shook himself. That shouldn’t matter, he thought. “I have some news.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him, taking another bite of toast. “Oh?”

  He nodded. “I spoke with the innkeeper. She confirmed that the city is having a festival today, only it’s not a festival as I would describe it.”

  She frowned at him. “What is it then?”

  He grimaced. “A sacrifice.”

  She paused with a sliced peach halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean, a sacrifice? Like giving up meat for Lent, or…?”

  He furrowed his brow, “What is Lent?”

  She huffed out a breath. “It’s a tradition where I’m from where you give up something you love for a few weeks to show your devotion, but that’s not the point. What kind of sacrifice are we talking here?”

  “The human kind.” He settled back in his chair, folding his hands on the table in front of him. “Apparently, a chimera has been attacking the Realm for many years. They petitioned to King Sebastian for help but help never arrived. Remember that the banners are not the imperial sigil? Ishtem declared itself independent after Sebastian refused aide.”

  “Ishtem found that, in exchange for a dozen lives freely given each month, the chimera will let the rest of them live in peace.” He shook his head. “And so they devised of this festival. Gathering everyone from the Realm into the city to participate in a lottery, after which the victims are sacrificed, and the rest of the city celebrates in respect of the dead and thank
s for the lives saved.”

  Maeve leaned back in her chair. “That explains why everything is so quiet,” she said, her voice soft. “Everyone knows that they might die today.”

  “Or that their loved ones might die,” he pointed out. “They’re beginning the procession to the colosseum now.”

  “Rodan, we have to stop this thing,” she said, standing up. “How do you kill a chimera?”

  He shook his head. “It’s too difficult. We would need an army.”

  She gestured at him. “But you’re Fae. You’re magic. More magic than anything else in the Five Realms.”

  He nodded. “Even I have my limits. I have never gone up against a creature as mighty as a chimera. Not alone. The innkeeper told me that this has been happening for a decade, which makes the creature over ten years old. That would also make it the largest I’d have ever encountered.”

  “So, you took one of these things before?” She barreled on before he responded. “And this is, like, the creature from Greek legend, right? Three fire-breathing heads and a serpent as a tail?”

  He gave a slow nod. “And great, large wings like a bat. It is a monstrous thing. When last I fought one, I had a contingent of guards with me. Not all made it.” He paused. “Who are the Greeks?”

  She snorted. “You know, for spending nearly a month in my world you learned very little.”

  “I was shown a great many videos on the antics of cats,” he said, his tone dry.

  Maeve laughed, and something in his chest seemed to seize and grow warm at the sound. “Okay, but—this must be it, Rodan, this must be one of the challenges for us to overcome on the way to the high seat. And if we rid the city and the Realm of such a threat, you’ll surely be crowned.”

  He shook his head. “If I go near this thing, it has to be alone, Maeve. You have never seen one of these creatures. They take out entire towns. They’re not meant for mortals to fight.”

  Maeve narrowed her eyes at him. “What is the point of my being here if I’m not helping you?”

  “You are helping me,” he said. “By pointing me in the right direction. By walking this path by my side.”

  Her cheeks flamed. “I’m not just some—some trophy you took from Sebastian. I can be useful.”

  “How would you be useful?” he said, rising and towering over her, his voice raised. “How would you being in imminent danger be useful? So that I can worry about you the entire time?”

  She rose too, facing off with him over the table. “You have never fought one of these things on your own, maybe you’ll need the help. I can do some magic. You don’t know if I could help turn the tide of the fight.”

  “It could be a trap.”

  “How? How could a creature that’s been terrifying the countryside for over ten years be a trap laid by Sebastian? Not everything is about him, Rodan. If you see him everywhere, you’ll only grow into paranoia.”

  Her words stilled him. What she said rang with a thread of truth. Sebastian loved to manipulate the world around him. Yet Ishtem no longer flew the imperial colors. How much of a grasp did the usurper have on this city? A tenuous one, at best.

  His hand moved forward and brushed over hers but she jerked away, eyes wide. His jaw clenched, and he drew his hand into a fist. “If you join the fray, or try to jump to my rescue, you will die, and that is a promise.”

  She shook her head. “This is horseshit. I need to be able to help you.”

  “You help me more than you think.” His words, quiet, took on a pleading tone. “But if you face this creature, you will die.”

  She blew out a sigh and rolled her eyes up to look at him, their gazes locking. “I can’t sit out every fight.”

  “You won’t,” he assured her. “I’m sure something will come up—it always does—and your particular skills will become useful.”

  “Tell me what’s so frightening about this creature.”

  He relaxed a little, and when she mimicked his posture he slid back into his seat. She followed a moment later. “So far as I am aware, a chimera grows continuously. The largest one in recorded history could sprawl across this entire city. And if sheer size were not enough, they have voracious appetites. This one requires twelve sacrifices a month, and chimeras enjoy hunting all kinds of large animals. Those bears we saw on the mountain? A chimera would kill and eat one, if given half the chance. They’re incredibly quick, efficient predators.”

  Maeve’s eyes widened. “How many are there?” she breathed.

  Rodan shrugged. “Most of ours come from Attica, originally, and we do not know how many live and hunt on that continent. No one has been able to study them there.”

  “Because you forbade it,” Maeve said with a frown. “Sebastian told me something about that. About a whole other side to this world that’s forbidden to explorers and settlers.”

  Rodan crossed his arms. “Yes, I forbade it. For good reason. Nothing—absolutely nothing—of any good comes from that place. Trust me.”

  “That will come with time, Rodan.”

  He frowned at her. “The point remains, we see chimera rarely. Perhaps one every three to five years, and it was always my pleasure to send the troops needed to dispatch them before they became too large. Even then, I had to imbue their weapons with magic in order for them to be effective against the beasts.” He shuddered. “The largest, thank all the gods, returned to Attica on its own.”

  Maeve’s lips parted, “You’re telling me that one that was as big as the Empire State Building may still be alive and even larger?”

  Rodan shrugged. “It’s possible.”

  Her face went pale. “What if that’s the one that’s here?”

  Rodan looked her straight in the eye for a long moment. Hers seemed to glow in the diffused light of the early morning suns. “Then I have led us both to our doom. I would need the strength of twenty Fae to dispatch a creature that size.” He leaned forward. “You could always go home, you know,” he said in a soothing voice. “I want you to know that’s an option.”

  She gave a slight shake of her head and furrowed her brows. “What do you mean, I can just go home? I’m your official companion, I’m supposed to continue the trials if you fall. If that thing killed me, too, then we’ll have lost. Obviously.”

  Rodan huffed out a short, bitter laugh. “What you’re supposed to do and what you will do are two very different circumstances. What you will do if I fall is find a way back to your world. Damn what you’re supposed to do.”

  “Hey,” she said sharply, pointing a finger at him. “You chose me. You said you trusted that if I won in your place, I would do everything I could for the people of the Five Realms. And you were right,” she said, her words trailing off as her eyebrows came together, a fold between them. “Wait.” She gave him a startled glance. “Were you just trying to get me to admit it?”

  He offered her a wide smile, “Would I do that to you?”

  She laughed. “Oh, I think you would.” She grew quiet for a moment, and they stared at each other again. That coil of tension seemed to tighten inside of him, even more as he thought about it. He felt the shift, the change that confirmed itself in Maeve’s eyes as they widened. To another Fae, his eyes changing color would be a clear signal that he remained unbonded. Not only unbonded, but interested in. Compatible with. He supposed the equivalent in her world would be holding a sign saying, “I’m not married, want to date me?”

  He was glad she did not understand. Not yet.

  His fingers itched, and he wanted to tear off his gloves so they touched skin to skin. What would she feel like? Would she be as soft as he sometimes imagined?

  Rodan tore his mind away from such thoughts.

  You’re supposed to be inspiring these thoughts in her, not the other way around, he chided himself.

  His smile widened. “I knew I chose wisely.”

  And maybe I did, he thought. Maybe my proposition to her all those years ago was not, purely, self-interest.

  CHAPTER TEN


  Maeve

  PEOPLE STILL FLOODED INTO THE COLOSSEUM when the two of them arrived. Rodan changed his clothes so that he wore all black armor, made of light steel and wrought with golden designs. As they walked to the site where the sacrifices would take place, Maeve noted people starting to point and whisper as they walked by.

  “I think you’re getting recognized,” she said to him as they approached the wide archway that led into the colosseum.

  He nodded, his gaze taking in the crowded rows of seats and those nearby who stared at him in awe. “Word is bound to get out eventually.”

  A man stood next to an enormous basket and passed out small objects to each of the people who came through the gate. As Maeve and Rodan approached, he reached in to grasp two more items, holding them out to the duo.

  Maeve took hers, turning it over in her palm. A flat river stone marked with a wavy blue line and the number seven rested in her palm. She looked at Rodan’s, a yellow circle with a three, and shrugged. “I guess this is how they determine the sacrifices.”

  At her words, a few of the people nearby gave her a sharp glance, and angry mutters rose around them. Flushing, she followed Rodan into the arena, mounting the stone steps up to a bench close to the lip of the arena.

  They sat while the place filled up with the last of the citizens of Ishtem. For the number of people here—and the number reached into the tens of thousands—everyone stayed silent. The only noise came from the scuff of sandals and boots against stone floors and the rustling of garments as people moved. Even the weather seemed to cooperate, the air still and stuffy in the great space.

  Soon enough, a white-haired old man moved into the area, a bag slung over his shoulder, shuffling in a way that showed he’d damaged his leg at some point. When he reached the center, he stopped and set down the bag. In the quiet, Maeve heard the rattle of stones from within.

  The crowd hushed as the man put his hand into the bag and felt around inside. The tension in the air became almost a physical thing, and Maeve reached out blindly, grasping Rodan’s hand. She almost startled as his fingers squeezed hers, and she realized with a thundering heart that she just willingly touched her old enemy.