To the Stars End- Original Soul
Page 18
“Thank you Lizzy, you really are the best.” They hugged one last time as she unlatched the front door of the shop.
“I know ya love me.” Lizzy winked at her and waved. “Next time I visit yer going ta have ta tell me all yer scandalous stories of courtly intrigue and street rat romances.”
“Don't believe a word Johnny says, you know that!” She laughed softly and flushed. ”I will tell you though so don't worry. Gods know I already have one hell of a story from today alone. But not tonight, it has been-a-day.” Beka waved one last time and resecured the door. Within minutes she was upstairs and drifting into fitful sleep.
Chapter 14: Red Skies in Morning
The sun had not yet risen over the horizon when Beka emerged from the Silverlight Smithy’s front door. Her uncle had blinked bleary eyes at her and nodded to something no one was saying, clearly still mostly asleep. She was wide awake however. Her restless night and worry had kept her tossing and turning. Jolting awake every few hours in a fit of panic and shivering under her blankets despite the heat of the warm Cross nights. When she at last had had enough, Beka had crawled out of bed and dressed in the new outfit.
Her new work skirt from Lizzy was amazing. The rows of pockets lining the leather sides of the skirt were reinforced to not rip. Just like the heavy leather pockets of a carpenter. She already had them stuffed to the brim with tools, her work belt slung low over her hips. The soft grey cloth of the skirt swished against her knees as she bounded away from the shop. She had a thin red shawl over the exposed shoulders and open neckline of the matching grey shirt. Even in the perpetual summer heat, the morning chill made her shiver and pull the shawl tighter around herself. The stitching and cut of the trim and stylish shirt clung tightly to keep her secure and showed off her slim profile and full chest, while not being too scandalous for polite company. Lizzy really had outdone herself. Beka was honestly surprised the foul-mouthed former street rat was really turning out to be a fantastic tailor.
This early in the morning the market was almost deserted. The scent of fresh bread drifted on the morning breeze from the square’s bakery as she wandered past the only open shop on the row. A handful of maids and butlers bustled around inside the shop, gathering goods for the coming day’s meals. Beka hesitated wanting to grab a sweetroll but her lack of funds and the butterflies in her stomach for the coming day was making her nauseous. “Next time, I’m getting a damn sweet roll. I’m tired of Uncle’s nasty eggs,” she promised herself. “If I live through today that is.” She sighed and moved on down the road.
In half the time it took the day before, Beka found herself once more standing in front of the Colosseum. The guard stationed at the entry hailed her with the tired call of a man who had been standing on duty all night.
“Ho there! Colosseum grounds are closed and off limits until seventh toll. Please return to your dwelling or boarding until the Colosseum grounds are opened.” His voice was deadpan and half mumbled, clearly a speech the tired guard must have made hundreds of times by now as the city ramped up in excitement of the coming tournaments.
“I'm here to work. Lord Kindredstar’s orders.” Beka fished the small rune stone from her pocket and smiled inwardly to herself. She had to be the only girl in all of Cross that could claim to do that in a skirt. Her smirk did not go unnoticed by the guard who sighed and took the rune stone from her. Turning it over in his palm a flicker of blue light and a sigil appeared over the stone, the guard tapped it with his finger and shook his head. She smiled smugly up at him.
“Smile while you can miss...it doesn't last long in the Menagerie.” He handed her back the rune stone and turned to open the iron gate blocking the Colosseum entrance.
“Th-thank you,” she stammered, surprised at the guard’s frank remark. Pocketing the stone once more she entered the inner compound. Following her path from the day before. Coming down the stairs to the Menagerie, the same two guards as before sat at their small table, not even bothering to stand as she approached.
“Use the rune stone,” the arrogant, disrespectful guard commanded her as the one on the right pointed to the door.
“Do you two ever leave?” Beka remarked, trying to keep her tone light despite wanting to grind her teeth at his tone. She had to bite back an even more snide remark to the man as the rude guard grunted dismissively.
“Guard rotations are not to be given out to civilians ma'am,” the more professional but unhelpful of the two said. The other nodded his head. She wrinkled her nose. Beka always figured she had a few more decades before she was going to be called ma'am. At least he was being polite.
“It was a joke anyway,” Beka mumbled, as she pressed the rune stone against the door. With a flash of blue light the sigil appeared above the stone. She took a step back and blinked rapidly in surprise as flowing ethereal words appeared in her vision. Access to the Menagerie has been granted. Welcome. Both guards’ helmets turning to watch her as the door turned to mist. The full helms and odd echo in the hallway made their impassive stares unnerving. “Well boys, this has been fun chatting with you but I have work to do.” Beka blinked at the fading letters before the rune stone in her hand fell dormant once more. “Are mages always reading things like that with their magic? Is that why they go all glassy-eyed and stare into the distance?” She bit at her lip and pushed the thought aside. It didn't matter. She had no magic of her own anyway.
Turning to the guards she nodded to each of them. “Have fun guarding a magic door no one can enter.” Beka gave them both a wide smile and stepped backwards through the misty door. They sat silently watching, faceless helmets turning in unison as she backed away. She kept her smile locked in place until the door solidified and blocked her view. There really was something unnerving about the both of them she could not quite put her finger on.
Shaking her head to clear the thought she turned and started down the quiet and still very out-of-place hallway. This time promising herself that she was going to go right to the office and not get distracted by anything. No grey-skinned monsters, no looming red know-it-alls, just work. As she stalked down the hall she forced herself to ignore the insistent “Psst, Psst” that came from the door the grey skinned creature was in. She glowered at the small grated window and hurried past. Coming up to the door at the end she reached out to knock, only to once again find her fist slamming into the hard-muscled chest of the man in red.
“Really? Bloody again!” Beka blurted out, before she caught herself and flushed brightly.
“You are early,” came Red’s flat response. Showing absolutely no sign he even recognized she had hit him. Not that she could put much force into the strike. She was an expert at filigree after all, not a hammer-wielding bruiser like her uncle. Beka tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’m sorry, I didn't know I had a time to show up.” She fidgeted and looked back the way she came. “I can come back…”
“No.” His sharp response was followed by what almost sounded like a sigh though she could not tell for sure as he stepped backwards into the office.
“Well, ok then.” She floundered a bit and followed him in. Glancing around nervously she took in the empty office. Lord Kindredstar was not there this time. Beka sighed inwardly, a little thankful at not having to start the day dealing with him.
“You are earlier than the Master expected. You are A, a sycophant. Or B, Fearful.” His nostrils flared as he turned to face her, leaning in close and sniffing again. “Fearful.” He let the declaration hang in the air. Beka had nothing to say to defend herself. He was right—she was afraid and he was not helping. She had wanted to start off as early as possible, to make sure she was here and working to the best of her abilities as the elf had demanded. Beka doubted she could get away with half of what her uncle or Master Little Bit had. She decided then to simply admit it. She had nothing to hide from this red monster in a man suit.
“Yes, I am. I have every reason to be. Look at this place, look at your ‘Master’ and look at
me.” She pointed to her chest and fumed. “I should not be here. So yes, I am afraid. But I showed up, didn't I?” She tried to sound and look defiant, thrusting her chin out and planting her hands on her hips. But her legs refused to stop shaking.
“Good. Fear will keep you alive,” was his only response, flat and to the point, without any emotion. The fact he said her life was actually in danger with such calm strength almost made her feel a little braver. Beka felt herself relax slightly.
“He really is a murderous crazy noble. Even his strange butler declares it a fact,” she mumbled to herself and swallowed hard. “Do I need to come back?” She was starting to fidget. The unblinking reptilian eyes of the man hadn't left her from the moment she entered the chamber. Despite originally trying to ignore his gaze. Beka’s anxiety was starting to rise in the awkward silence and oppressive emptiness of the room. Knowing Red was some sort of monster was not helping either. The sensation of being a small animal in the presence of a dangerous predator was itching at the back of her mind.
“No,” came his sharp response again. Beka waited for him to continue several more seconds but when it seemed he was not going to say anything more she opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off. “I will take you to your work space. The master expected you closer to noon. He will not be here until then. You may work on the project in his absence. If you finish before he arrives I will explain your reason. You began early. You ended early.” Red paused, a glint of light glowing in his reptilian eyes again. “Did you bring the hammer.”
She gasped and took a step back. A cold sweat creeping up her spine. He did know! Beka tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, knowing her eyes must be as large as dinner plates. It was impossible for him to know about the hammer. If he knew about the Silverlight hammer and her family's enchantments did Lord Kindrestar know? Her fear and shock must have been clear on her face because Red held up his hands in a calming gesture. It seemed strange and almost out of place coming from him. Every other motion of the big man was sharp and precise, often a little too fast for comfort. But he was holding his large hands before him and patted the air soft and slow, a low pitched rumble resonated in the office.
“Do not fear. Yes I know. The master does not. I can not explain how. Did you bring it?”
Her mouth opened and shut like a fish trying to breath out of water, her voice croaking out in a strangled squeak that made her face flush at the embarrassing sound. “Ack, ahh, N-No.”
“Good. Never bring it. The master must never know of it. This way. To your work space.” Her heart was hammering in her chest. Who was this man? What was he? Why did she need to keep the hammer from the elf lord, aside from it being her family legacy that is. How did he know so much about it? Questions spun through her mind as she followed Red from the room, only idly realizing she had exited into the Menagerie’s pit cells instead of the Private holding rooms. The rancid stink of goblins assaulted her nose.
“Uggg! I thought I was working on one of the Lord’s private stock.” Beka wrinkled her nose and wrapped her shawl around her face, peering up at Red as her eyes began to water.
“You are.” He kept on marching. The monsters and beasts in the cages all scattering away from the front of their cells. Unlike with Kindredstar the creatures all ran into hiding or bristled and hissed, others growled in what was clearly terror. They did everything in their power to get as far away as possible. Some even clawing and biting at the others of their kind as they clambered over each other. Wary eyes locked on Red. Beka was all but ignored, making her anxiety ramp up to yet another degree she did not even know she had. If not for Red’s steady stride and her not wanting to breathe any more of the chamber’s cloying stink, Beka was convinced she would be hyperventilating because of stress by now.
“Why are we in the pits? I thought his stock was in the other hall.” Her voice was muffled by her shawl and still a little squeaky as she tried to steel her nerves.
“For your protection. He has been subdued here. As requested by the master. I was told it was by your command.” His tone actually ended up sounding accusatory. As if the monster was being mistreated because of her. True she had worried about working on a monster unprotected but Kindredstar had said it would be asleep, not confined.
“I thought it was just going to be asleep.”
“He,” came Red’s sharp rebuke.
“What?” She blinked up at him as he stopped mid stride to look back at her. A slight frown on his stoic face.
“He. Not it.” Red crossed his arms and stared down at her, making her feel even smaller than ever.
“Sorry, he.” She blushed, wondering why he was so concerned for the creature’s well-being. The thought crossed her mind only a second before her subconscious kicked her in the back of the head and she groaned a little. Pressing her hand on her forehead Beka hoped Red did not ask why she made the gesture. Of course he cared, he was a monster, an oddly polite, and very human-like monster, but still a damn monster.
“We tried to put him to sleep. He woke up. Now he is in here. And he is being punished. Again.” This time the growl that slipped from Red as well as the sudden hostility in his voice made her legs seize up. She almost toppled over as every instinct in her demanded that she run away from this place, to scream in terror and flee. Instead her body locked into place like a rabbit, staring down a fox. Death was literally two feet away from her and she was going to stand there and take it.
Red reached out his hand and pointed to a thick cell door set into the wall. The little wagon from the armory was sitting next to the door, empty. Beka tore her eyes away to look at it and back to him. His golden reptilian eyes met hers and light flared within. The feeling of fear easing instantly. Was there some sort of Primal magic involved? That clearly was a spell but there was no array. Was that a part of whatever Red was, an aura of fear and power? It had to be. Her mind raced as to what he could possibly be, some sort of primal for sure. Though he did not look like how the Primals were described. Some other monster that can use the same sort of magic perhaps? Just as she started to wrack her brain about what monsters’ stories she knew that had an aura of fear in them, Red’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“He is in there. Your forge is as well. As are several gold bars. Do you need any other tools?” He lowered his arm and strode to the door. It had thick wooden planks ribbed with heavy iron bars and a tiny window fitted with steel. It looked like a cheaper, non-enchanted version of the doors in Lord Kindredstar’s private collection. She wondered if it was really enough to keep whatever was inside locked in. Red lifted the heavy iron bar that held the door closed with ease and pushed it open. The room beyond was pitch black. Red stepped inside, stooping to clear the door jam and gestured for her to follow.
As Beka stepped through the door her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light and took in the room. It was huge, over a hundred feet long and nearly forty feet wide with a vaulted ceiling at least thirty feet high. Its corners shrouded in darkness. The only light in the chamber flickered from several dim candles set high on the walls and a single chandelier at the roof’s apex. The cavernous room looked to have been built for something truly massive. The tiny door clearly only for the guards or Lord Kindredstar to move in and out of. The size of the room seemed out of place, compared to its one lone occupant.
Kneeling in the middle of the chamber was a single monster, barely larger than her uncle. She had to blink a few times as she took in what she was seeing. The outlandish size of the room for the single captive was throwing her for a mental tumble. The creature could not have been over six feet tall. It's bare upper body was covered in thick reddish brown fur and a dark mahogany mane fell down its back and over it’s face. It had a simple leather loincloth tied around its waist, held on by a heavy belt and buckle that doubled as a link of chain. A thick rope tied the belt linked to a brace on the floor. A thick burlap sack had been pulled over its eyes like a horse’s blinders and a length of rope was tied around its long muzzle a
nd thick jaw like a dog. The creature’s head rested on a simple stone block. A glinting ring of familiar looking red gold metal hooked through its thick nose. The ring was attached to a heavy chain that anchored it to the floor just on the other side of the stone block, keeping its head firmly positioned. A pair of curving horns each over two feet long swept forward from its skull ending in deadly tips, exactly as the skull she had seen the day before. She noted to herself that the horns were just as stark ivory white as the skull in the bone pile. Beka briefly wondered if the deceased creature in the pit was somehow related to this one or if they all these monsters had the same stark white horns.
The overly long and incredibly muscled arms of the monster were stretched out to each side, hanging in open air by a pair of immense iron chains and rune-inscribed manacles. Each link of the chain was nearly as wide around as her foot. Another pair of thick chains disappeared behind the creature into the darkness, shackles tying the creature’s powerful legs and massive clefthoofs in place. A fluff-tipped tail of the same color as the monster’s mane swished a clean patch in the dusty floor behind it. The only sign that the creature was awake.
“Its... he’s,” She corrected herself, “a Primal?” Beka cast about the room, looking for any other inhabitants but found only her grandfather’s portable forge resting against the wall near the door, a small box sitting atop the device. A pile of coal heaped next to it and a stool leaning upon a small anvil that someone had thought to bring with the forge, likely Little Bit.