by N M Zoltack
Gradually, the wails faded to soft moans and then nothing whatsoever.
As ever, he kept glancing around at the underbrush, at the tree roots. Thus far, he had hardly seen any flowers growing in this forsaken place, and he would be lying if he were to claim he wasn’t growing impatient.
“Are the lizard men real, do you think?” Edmund asked to keep his mind from their dismal failure.
“Seven-feet tall men with skin like a lizard’s, red eyes, three fingers…” Tatum shrugged. “I have heard the stories, but I have never seen one myself, and nor do I want to.”
“Do lizards frighten you?” he asked.
“Not at all,” she retorted, grimacing.
“No? Not even tiny ones?” He plucked a small one from a nearby branch, dangling it in front of her.
She swatted his hand away. “No.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he deposited the lizard back onto its branch.
“What do you think is wrong?” she asked, frustration coloring her voice. She threw out her hands. “I had hoped to have left the swamp by now. I knew the herb was rare, that the swamp was vast, but we have been here for days, and we have not even made a full circuit yet. What if… What if the herb no longer grows here? It’s not known to grow anywhere else. If I caused you to leave your duties for nothing at all—”
“Tatum,” he said firmly, “it would not have been for nothing. You could have—”
Without warning, Tatum lunged forward, unsheathed Edmund’s sword, and then awkwardly stabbed at something. A howl rang out, and Edmund whirled around to see a creature with a human body but whose head was that of a fierce wolf. Well, not such a fierce wolf at the moment as it howled in pain as Tatum yanked out the sword and pierced its side.
Edmund took his sword from her, but the two wounds were enough. The creature collapsed and then half-sank, half-floated on the swamp water. The current pushed the creature on by.
The knight gaped at her. “You saved me.”
Tatum shrugged, but her grin was wide. “You saved me, so it only seemed fair.”
He stared at the body. “What was that?”
“A rougarou. Some say they are cursed beings who survive only on human blood. After a certain period of time, the next person they drink from will take on the curse, freeing the first, although they are rumored to never be the same again.”
Edmund shuddered. “That would be a terrible fate.”
“I am beginning to think this entire place is terrible.” Tatum bit her lower lip. “Mayhap we never should have come here.”
“One day more,” Edmund suggested. “If we locate the Wink of Life within one day, we leave.”
“And if we don’t, we leave anyhow. This place is forsaken,” Tatum said.
Indeed it was, but Edmund was grateful that if he had to be here, he wasn’t alone. Other than when her despair fought to overwhelm her, Tatum was a lovely companion. In fact, despite the dangers, Edmund had not felt more alive or free than he did here with her. Being a guard was not why he had become a knight, but helping a helpless maiden? That most certainly was.
Not that Tatum was helpless. She was one of the strongest ladies he knew. Dudley was one lucky man.
29
Olympia Bai
For over a week, Olympia had been doing her best to maintain the peace. As the days of unending night grew closer, she was beginning to wonder if peace was even worth it. The struggle to keep everyone happy was proving to be such a cumbersome burden that she was fighting herself to stay put and continue to battle.
It didn’t help that the guards were watching them all more closer now. The people were on edge, and every time someone looked at someone else wrong, the guards would move to cut in. Olympia had to be the master of diffusing fights before they even became a fight in order to keep the guards at bay.
It wasn’t that Olympia wanted the guards to remain here. All she wanted was peace. If that was possible with a Rivera on the throne, or even that Grantham…
No. Just no. Tenoch Proper should not be like this. That wasn’t to say that the islands could not all be united under one rule. But why couldn’t there be a king or a queen for that matter who could be the main ruler. A lesser ruler could be appointed to each of the islands and govern for the king or queen, in their stead. There could both be a global government and individual power as well. The best of both worlds, perhaps.
Bu no one asked Olympia for her thoughts on the matter even though they should. All of her life, Olympia craved peace even more than she did love.
In fact, she doubted she would ever find love. She knew all of the men on the island, and she knew that none of them were the one for her. One day, she might leave, and maybe then, she would think differently about love. Honestly, she doubted her mind would be altered.
The clouds in the sky as the moon was beginning to rise ere most unsettling. Olympia feared a storm would be coming. It wasn’t until the next morning when the sun never revealed her golden face that the monsoon hit, furious and deadly.
Monstrous waves slammed into the island, spattering sand everywhere, making it impossible to see anything. The swirling wind ripped at Olympia’s hair and clothes as soon as she left her sand cave, and she could hardly move at all. Beneath her feet, the sand would not support her weight, always slipping and sliding beneath her heels.
“Go to the center,” she shouted, but the monsoon captured her words. She couldn’t even hear them herself.
Still, she continued to yell and call. Children especially tended to be in awe of the terrible storms, and she would not rest until each and every single one of them were safely in the stone shelter. Nothing else would work for this one. Nothing at all.
So much sand was stirred up that the particles were attacking her as much as the biting wind and the towering waves. Only by cover her mouth and nose with her soaked shirt could Olympia breathe. Her lungs burned. Had she swallowed some sand? Maybe it was only her worry and fear that made each breath hurt. Her chest felt so very tight.
Ahead, she spied a family huddling together. The parents were looking around. Maybe they were disoriented, uncertain the direction to the safety.
Olympia fell twice on her way over to them. The second time, her face slammed into the gritty sand. She had faced many monsoons every year, but she had never before experienced one such as this before. The frightening storm showed no signs of relief anytime soon. Already, she spied a wave even taller and more furious that the ones that had come before.
In the end, she crawled to the family and shoved them toward the center of the island. It took a few more shoves before they realized her intent, and they moved as quickly as they could, which was not that quickly at all. Speed was not possible for anyone, only the wind and the roaring waves and the torrential downpour.
Now that the family was hopefully on their way to safety, Olympia glanced all around. She didn’t see anyone, but that did not mean that there was no one to be found.
The faintest of sounds came to Olympia then. Perhaps she imagined them, and she could not originate the source. No matter. She could not stop her search until she was certain that anyone and everyone had taken refuge in the stone shelter.
Olympia started forward and hesitated. To her left, she spied movement. The guards. Always, they had fended for themselves before during monsoons. Never had they died during one. They might not. They very well could. Perhaps it was them she had heard.
As if the monsoon which to test her resolve and make her doubt her will to aid them, she struggled with every step toward them. Waving her arms did not get their attention, and she had to fight and drag herself over to them before they jerked, startled by her appearance. She guided them several miles toward the stone shelter.
A woman drenched, fear in her eyes was struggling to break free from the men holding her back. Narses Kader’s mother. Olympia waved again and pointed to herself. Despite the woman’s grief and fright, she at least noticed and sank into the men’s arms. They
dragged her back.
Once more, Olympia forced her way back into the storm. Rocks pelted her from the wind or perhaps they were hailstones. She did not bother to check but kept her head down and plunged forward. How she was going to find the boy she didn’t know. All she could do was try.
A sharp stone hit the side of her head. Olympia staggered and brought a hand to the spot. When she glanced at her fingers, she saw red. A wave of dizziness washed over her, but she dragged herself onward.
The wind was lifting more sand, more rocks, and Olympia felt as if she was being personally attacked. She was becoming disoriented herself, and she had no idea where the boy might be.
Just then, she heard the faintest of sounds. It wasn’t the roar of the waves or the shifting sand. It wasn’t her racing heartbeat or the sound of her sandals sliding on the sand.
It was a distinctly human sound.
A surge of fresh energy seized her, and Olympia fought back against the wind. Suddenly, she could walk faster, almost even jog.
But then a tidal wave crashed into her, sweeping her off her feet. Olympia flayed her arms, and by chance or perhaps one of the Fates, her fingers brushed against hair.
Narses Kader!
The tidal wave tore Olympia into the water, back into the sea, but she was determined now. She dove under the waves and pulled herself closer and closer to the bobbing small form of the boy. The waves threatened to pull her back, but nothing, nothing at all, would keep her from him.
Then, as Olympia went to arc her arm again, she did not touch water. She was embracing the trembling boy.
Swiftly, Olympia had him on her back, his hands clasped around her neck. It did not make for easy breathing. She could not dive under the water either. The huge waves crashed against the island, which served to help her, but if they did not reach the shore before another tidal wave hit…
Her arms were burning. Her legs could not kick faster. Her muscles were tight. Her vision was useless as all she saw was darkness. Still, she struggled and swam and fought the waves and willed herself to continue on if not for herself then for the boy on her back.
All of a sudden, she wasn’t swimming. She was flat on her stomach on the shore.
Hesitating only so long as to hike up the boy on her back, she raced forward. The wind was not as strong as before.
A rock nearly took off her nose.
Scratch that. The wind hadn’t died down any. Wistful thinking.
Olympia had to get out of reach of the next tidal wave. Her legs felt like jam, a treat she had only eaten twice in her life, and she could hardly remain upright. She staggered as she carried the boy.
Somehow, someway, by the time the next tidal wave hit, water only hit the back of her calves. She fell to her knees and only was able to open her eyes again when the boy started to slide off her back. As much as she longed to sleep, she couldn’t. Not yet.
Soon.
Olympia crawled a few paces before she was able to stagger to get one foot down. Before she got the other in position for her to stand, dark forms rushed toward her, claiming the boy, guiding her up. Within seconds or perhaps she passed out for a little bit, she was in the stone structure.
There, inside the building, they were safe, all of them, the people, the guards, the boy, herself. The howling of the wind and the roars of the crashing waves were so very loud yet, the stone muffling the sound only slightly.
The people of Xalac were glowering at the guards, but they tolerated them. To have them out of doors during this storm would eventually kill them.
Narses Kader’s mother rushed over to him. The boy’s face was a little blue as visible from the bright orange flames. Somehow, despite everything being so very wet, someone had started a fire.
The boy pushed his mother away and lumbered over to Olympia. He embraced her with everything in his little body, and when she smoothed his wet hair from his forehead, he smiled up at her. His mother hugged her son and Olympia both.
Wordlessly, a woman began to wash Olympia’s wounds. A man handed her some stale bread that tasted absolutely amazing. After that first bite, though, Olympia counted. Everyone was here. Good. Now, she consumed the rest and drank some water that was not trying to kill her.
After a few moments, Olympia beamed. Together. They could get through anything together. She knew then that she would always fight for peace not just for herself. Not just for the people of Xalac but for all persons everywhere.
30
Rase Ainsley
Maxene wasn’t the only friend Rase had. Well, he wasn’t even sure he could still consider Maxene a friend anymore with the way she was acting lately. And he didn’t really have a lot of friends other than her because Darwin hated that Rase used to borrow some of his food.
Maybe I shouldn’t think so lowly of Pa.
Rase winced. It wasn’t possible to borrow food. You couldn’t give it back. He had stolen Darwin’s food, taken food out of his friend’s mouth.
It had been years since Rase had last seen Darwin, but that didn’t mean Rase didn’t know where to find his former friend. Darwin was a peasant, but at least his pa had a job. He was a troubadour. Darwin would often play alongside his pa had the various taverns or other places they would perform. Only the best troubadours could even dream of having a chance to play at the castle.
The Spotless Chestplate tavern was one of the pubs that Darwin loved to play at the most. He used to tell Rase that one day, he would play there himself, and Rase wasn’t at all surprised to see his friend, standing on the stage, dancing and hopping around as he strummed a lute and sang loud enough that he could just be heard over the din of the crowd.
This tavern wasn’t like most. Many families would come by to eat here. It wasn’t as smoky as many of the others, and Rase was pleased to see no signs of gambling anywhere within the establishment.
Rase sneaked his way inside and eased a path toward the stage. Darwin finished a song with a flourish, swept into a low bow, and grinned as a few patrons tossed some small coins his way. One rolled by his foot, and he stomped on it. As he bent to pick it up, Darwin noticed Rase.
Darwin snatched up the coin and slowly rose, maintaining his stare at his former friend. “Why are you here? Want to ‘borrow’ something else of mine?”
Rase’s shoulders slumped. Already this reunion was off to a poor start.
“I just wanted—”
“You wanted what?” Darwin asked. “I can’t talk now. I’m busy working.”
To Rase’s horror, a tear ran down his cheek. He angrily wiped it away, hoping Darwin didn’t see.
Darwin scowled, which made him look older than his fourteen years. He had once been the same size as Rase, but then he had shot up like a weed, growing overnight. Rase would never be as tall as Darwin. The height of the stage made his friend seem like a giant, and Rase’s neck hurt to bend back so he could stare up at Darwin.
“I just came to listen to you sing,” Rase muttered. He took a step back.
Darwin blinked a few times and then grinned. He launched into a ridiculous song about a lady falling in love with a dragon many long years ago, but the dragon grew hungry, roasted, and ate her.
“She wasn’t ever to amount to much except to be a dragon’s lunch!” Darwin finished grandly.
The crowd roared with approval, and Darwin immediately sang a new song, this time about the queen’s beauty. Rase didn’t pay enough attention to know which queen the young man sang about. During the next ballad, Rase was having trouble concentrating. The smell of the food overwhelmed him, and his stomach pained him terribly to the point that he stumbled and fell to one knee.
“Are you all right?” a woman asked kindly. She helped him up and then sat back down at her seat, her back to him.
Rase tried not to stare at the rest of the stew in the trencher before her. There were only a few mouthfuls left, but she pushed the rest of the bread bowl to her left, to the young boy beside her. He gobbled it up, and she laughed.
“
My growing boy,” she said, tussling his hair.
Rase forced a smile at the scene.
“I’m going to take a short break,” Darwin announced. “If anyone wants to buy me some stew so I have the strength to sing all night…”
“I’ll buy you stew if you shut it,” a man called. Those with him laughed.
Darwin laughed louder than the others. “If you don’t want to be entertained…”
“Who says I’m not entertaining?” The man stood, his large gut nearly causing the table to tip.
“Go on then,” Darwin challenged. “Sing.”
The man opened his mouth and promptly let out an impressive belch that lasted a good thirty seconds.
“Not quite on pitch,” Darwin teased.
“Ah, shut yer trap,” the man bellyached. “Wench, fetch the brat of a bard some stew, will ya?”
Darwin grinned and bowed. “Much obliged.”
“Yeah, well, you’re gonna be singing about the dragons all night long.”
Darwin paled slightly. Hadn’t he learned other songs about the dragons? Even Rase knew a few.
The serving girl brought over a bread bowl for Darwin, and the troubadour took a seat at the bench nearest the stage, his back to Rase. Feeling out of place, Rase debated leaving. Darwin wouldn’t help. Maybe he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right or fair for Rase to ask anything of Darwin in the first place.
Darwin ate about half of his food before he turned slightly. “You didn’t come to hear my sing. You a liar now in addition to being a thief?”
“I’m not a thief,” Rase said automatically as he sat beside Darwin.
The young man snorted. “You can’t borrow food.”
Rase sighed and held out his hands. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Darwin slurped a spoonful and then sighed. “You didn’t come here to apologize.”
“I did,” Rase said defensively.
“And?” Darwin prompted.
“And to see if you could help me find a job,” Rase mumbled in a rush.