‘Aye, maybe,’ she said, picking up the tankard and getting off the stool. She spotted a dark alcove in the corner of the tavern and took a seat in the shadows by a table. She sipped the ale and tried to relax, but felt guilty about the way she had brushed off Nareen. She just wasn’t in the mood for the trivial nonsense most mortals found so important. So-and-so was having a baby, or was getting married to her second cousin, twice removed. You’ll never guess what happened to old George, he fell down the stairs! All of it; pointless. The mortals lived, aged and died so quickly it was becoming a blur to Aila. No, it had always been a blur, but in the past she hadn’t cared about the mortals. Did she care for them now?
Some of them. Over the long years, she had developed a few bonds with mortals; friends, occasional lovers, but it always ended the same, with her unchanged, and the mortal growing old and dying, leaving Aila bereft and grieving. The other gods and demigods had hardened their hearts to this sad reality a long time before, if indeed some of them had possessed a heart to begin with.
Dorvid brought over a fresh chestnut ale for her every time she finished the one she had, but the alcohol made no difference to her foul mood. A few customers came and went, and Aila hardly noticed when a loud knock came from the front door. Dorvid grabbed his iron bar and went to the little shutter at the entrance. He grinned and opened it, sliding the bolts free.
A very tall man walked in, with two shorter, more normal-sized people at his side.
‘Hey, Nareen!’ he called over. ‘You’re looking good this evening. Line up the drinks, hen; you up for another all-nighter?’
Aila glanced at the tavern-keeper, and much to her surprise she saw the older woman blush and giggle. Nareen giggle? What in Malik’s name could possibly make Nareen giggle?
The tall man approached the bar and lowered himself onto one of the stools, which looked tiny under him. He stood again, smiling and shaking his head. ‘My ass feels like it’s too close to the floor; you got any bigger seats?’
Aila kept to the shadows of the alcove, watching the man and trying to place him. His face seemed familiar…
‘Here you go, son,’ Nareen said, placing the first three ales before the new arrivals. ‘The brandy’ll just be a second.’ She flashed her eyes at Aila. ‘See, Elsie? This is what I was trying to tell you earlier; look who I’ve got as a customer!’
The tall man turned to peer into the shadows of the alcove.
Malik’s beard, she thought, it was Corthie Holdfast.
‘Elsie?’ he said, a strange look on his face. ‘Is that not…?’
Aila stared at him, a panic starting to rise inside her. ‘Aye, my name’s Elsie. You got a problem with that?’
‘Eh, no, I suppose…’ he said, winking at her. ‘Elsie.’ He turned back to the bar, laughed, then downed his ale in one. ‘That was beautiful, Nareen; I think I love you.’
A few of the regulars wandered over to the bar to see what the fuss was, and Aila watched as Corthie shook their hands, and engaged them in conversation. What was he doing in the Blind Poet? Wasn’t it meant to be her secret place? She started to feel a little jealous. This was her territory, not his. Did he think he could just walk in and take over? She simmered with anger as she watched him smile and laugh with the locals.
She finished her beer and decided to leave, her night ruined. Something was niggling at her though; the way Corthie had looked at her, as if he had seen through her illusions and realised who she really was. No, that was impossible. Her powers worked on everyone, even the God-King and God-Queen.
There was a thump on her table and she looked up to see Corthie plant himself onto a seat in the alcove opposite her, a full bottle of brandy and two glasses laid out before him.
‘What do you want?’ she said, her eyes narrow as she edged back in her seat.
‘I’m curious,’ he said as he filled the two glasses. ‘Something’s bugging me. I already knew that you drank here, your cousin told me, but how come you use a different name? Why does nobody recognise you?’
Aila’s mouth dried up and she stared at his green eyes like an idiot.
‘If you’re too drunk to speak, that’s fine,’ he said. ‘I hope to be joining you soon.’
‘Corthie,’ said the man he had come in with; ‘me and Quill are getting a table. You coming?’
‘In a bit. I want a minute with Elsie first.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t be bothering her tonight,’ said Nareen; ‘she’s had a foul temper since she walked in.’
Corthie narrowed his eyes and glanced from Nareen to Aila. ‘Oops, have I made a colossal ass of myself?’ he whispered. ‘Are you really Elsie? I could have sworn you were someone else; your face… and I’m usually good with faces. But I suppose it would be a bit strange for the Adjutant of the Circuit to be drinking in here, even if Lord Naxor said that it was her favourite place, or used to be.’
Aila felt the blood drain from her features. ‘Lord Naxor?’
‘Aye, he brought me here a few days back, when we were on our night out. He said it was the only place in the Circuit he knew, because you… I mean, the person I, em, thought you were, had brought him here once.’
‘Asshole.’
‘What was that?’ he laughed. ‘Is Elsie calling a demigod an asshole?’ He winked at her again. ‘Come on, drop the act, I know who you are. You’ve not even bothered to change your clothes. What’s getting me is that nobody else seems to realise; are you playing some sort of trick on them?’
She stared at him. ‘Who do you see me as? I need you to say my name.’
He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, ‘Lady Aila.’
She shuddered, partly due to his proximity, partly due to the realisation that Corthie could see through her powers. In fact, it seemed as though he was unaware she was using any powers. How could that be possible? It wasn’t, she told herself. It couldn’t be happening. Naxor or someone else must have told him about her powers, and this was an elaborate set-up.
‘What brooch is pinned to my jacket?’ she said.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re not wearing a brooch. You have a necklace, with… a little silver dog pendant, and your hair’s tied up with a black ribbon. You have a ring on the fourth finger of your right hand, silver again, with a blue stone. You have….’
Aila leaped to her feet. ‘Stop!’ she cried, making everyone in the tavern turn to stare.
Nareen frowned. ‘Champion or no champion,’ she said, ‘Elsie’s been a loyal customer for years, and I don’t want you upsetting her.’
Corthie raised his hands. ‘Sorry, Nareen, just a misunderstanding.’ He turned to Aila. ‘Do you want me to leave?’
She did, but her mouth seemed frozen. She sat back down again. How was this possible; she needed to know. ‘No, it’s fine.’
‘You should know something about me,’ he said, lowering his voice again. ‘Powers don’t have any effect. Naxor tried to read my thoughts, but he couldn’t. No one can, except my sister.’
‘You’re resistant to the power of the gods and demigods?’
He smiled. ‘Aye. So, your trick; how does it work?’
‘I can make others see me as a different person, but, as you’ve already noticed, I don’t actually change. It’s an illusion. I convince their eyes that I’m someone else, and their minds accept it.’
‘Nice,’ he said; ‘I can see how that could be useful. One question. When you brought Naxor here, did you come as Elsie?’
‘No, I came as myself. It was over a hundred years before I’d even thought of Elsie. And Naxor remembered.’ She shook her head. ‘That boy’s getting a slap in the face the next time I see him.’
‘Why?’
‘Because this is my place; he had no right to invite you along. What are you doing here anyway? You are aware the Circuit’s burning to the ground as we speak?’
‘Unexpected night off,’ he said, refilling the brandy glasses, ‘and out of the many taverns I went to with Naxor that night, this one’
s the closest, and has the best ale.’
‘Yes, but the riots?’
He shrugged. ‘They don’t bother me. The people in the Circuit are the friendliest of any I’ve met in the City; they remind me the most of the folk I knew back home.’
Aila’s annoyance switched to curiosity as if a lever had been pulled. ‘Your home?’
‘Aye, before I was taken and sold to slave-dealers.’
‘And… where is your home?’
‘In relation to here? I have absolutely no idea. The sun’s all wrong, and the stars… there are so many. My sister would probably know. She’s coming to rescue me, by the way, so I won’t be here forever.’
‘Your sister? Does she have powers too?’
‘Not battle-vision; she’s hopeless at fighting, but aye, she has powers enough to rival any of your gods.’
‘And she’s a mortal?’
‘Aye, just like me. Why do none of the mortals here have any powers? Everyone acts like I’m the freak, but where I’m from, there are many who have powers; vision, death, flow, fire… It runs in families. My mother and father were both powerful, and my idiot brother too. My sister though, she’s the greatest of them all.’ He paused for a moment, his eyes drifting. ‘I miss her.’
‘And are there other gods in your world?’
‘Aye, unfortunately. We’ve killed quite a few, but some were still there when I was taken. Hopefully, my sister will have got the rest of them by now.’
Aila said nothing. Could any of this be true? Was Corthie delusional, or mad? Or was he just a good liar, for he seemed honest? Other worlds, with other gods.
‘You’re a demigod, right?’ he said. ‘How come you don’t already know this stuff?’
‘I knew there were secrets; mysteries. Where the champions come from, for a start. Naxor swore an oath to the God-King, and he’s never uttered a word to me about how he brings the champions here, or how he… obtains them.’
‘He bought me with a big bag of gold. Well, I presume it was gold; I didn’t actually look inside.’
It wasn’t gold, she realised with a start. So much was beginning to make sense.
‘Can I ask something else about Naxor?’ he said.
‘Sure.’
‘Why does he look so young? You look older than me, say in your mid to late-twenties, and Duke Marcus is the same, but Naxor looks the same age as me; it’s weird. Kano too, looks about eighteen or nineteen. I knew gods that looked old, or middle-aged at least, but here you all seem so young. How come?’
She narrowed her eyes. Corthie clearly didn’t know anything about the salve, but he had already guessed that the gods and demigods were using something to maintain their youthful appearance.
‘I don’t know you well enough to tell you a secret like that.’
Corthie laughed. ‘Fair enough, though at least I now know there is a secret.’
‘Do you see much of my brother?’
‘Kano? More than I’d like.’
Aila felt her eyes well. Damn it. She hated her stupid brother, why would the thought of him make her cry?
Corthie glanced at her. ‘Sorry.’
She wiped her face. ‘He wasn’t always like that. He wasn’t always an… asshole. He used to be kind, and generous, and would help anyone.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘Duke Marcus.’
They sat in silence for a moment as Aila suppressed her tears. She thought back to the cheerful and happy brother she had grown up with. She had lost that version of Kano forever.
‘I’ll leave you alone if you want,’ Corthie said; ‘I didn’t mean to bring you down.’
She glanced over at the table where the champion’s two colleagues were sitting. ‘Are your friends missing you?’
‘I see them night and day in Arrowhead; they’re probably glad to get some peace.’
Aila observed the way the two mortals were looking at Corthie and doubted that was true. The man was watching him as if he were a proud father, while the woman either wanted to mother him, sleep with him, or both.
She downed her brandy. ‘I’d like you to stay.’
He refilled the glasses. ‘Good, because I’m enjoying chatting to you. You don’t seem much like the other demigods.’
‘Do you not like Naxor?’
‘He’s alright; slippery though, as if you’re never sure if he’s telling you the whole truth.’
‘Yeah, I know what you mean. Out of all of them, he’s probably my favourite, but that’s not really saying much. So, I thought the fighting on the walls never ended; how come you have a night off?’
Corthie smiled. ‘Buckler’s got an injury; he can’t fly. The greenhides are getting harder to kill anyway, so it makes sense to leave them be for a night.’
‘Why are they getting harder to kill?’
‘Because they keep running away from me.’
Aila’s mouth opened, and she let out a loud laugh. ‘What? That’s impossible.’
He shrugged. ‘I have a thousand witnesses every night who would tell you the opposite. They flee as soon as I step out of the outer walls. When Buckler’s fit again, I’m going to ask him to fly me out a bit further, then drop me right into the middle of them.’ He chuckled. ‘That’d be a laugh.’
She stared at him. Was he mad? Was it possible that he didn’t fear the eternal enemy? ‘How did Buckler get injured? Did he fly too low over the greenhides?’
‘Nah, I don’t think it was them that got him. I went down to his lair, but he didn’t want to show me the wound. Seemed a bit embarrassed about it to be honest, but I caught a glimpse of it when he wasn’t looking. Three deep scores down his flank, as if he’d clawed himself, though I don’t think even Buckler’s that stupid.’
Aila smiled. She couldn’t tell Corthie about the salve, but she knew another secret. ‘Come in close,’ she said. ‘I want to tell you something.’
He leaned over.
‘There’s another dragon,’ she whispered.
His eyes widened and she cackled with glee. ‘What?’ he said. ‘Where, in Arrowhead?’
‘I’m not exactly sure where the beast is kept. It’s another one of those deep, dark secrets of which there are so many in the City. She arrived at the same time as Buckler, but I think she refused to fly or help in any way.’
‘How do you know this?’
She smiled. ‘Naxor isn’t always as discreet as he’d like to be. He was gushing with excitement when he brought the two dragons here, and I guess he had to tell someone. He’s denied it since, right to my face if you’ll believe that, but I remember.’
‘What else do you know about her?’
‘Nothing, sorry. Just that she’s a “she”, and that she won’t fly.’
‘I’ll need to look into this,’ he said. ‘Thanks.’
‘No problem. Why were you out with Naxor anyway?’
‘He took me to Ooste, to meet his mother.’
Aila sneered and narrowed her eyes.
‘Let me guess, you don’t get along with Aunty Khora?’
‘Not exactly. How did you find her?’
‘She was busy when we arrived. Polite, but aloof, as if she had more important things to be doing than meeting a greenhide-killer. She was interested in my immunity to her powers, though; that got her thinking.’
‘Listen to me, Corthie; do not trust Khora. She might seem like a reasonable sort of person, but I know what she’s really like, and it’s not pretty.’
‘Let me guess, has this something to do with your Civil War?’
‘How did you know that?’
‘Naxor told me a bit about it.’
‘Oh yeah? I can imagine what he would have told you; and what he missed out.’
‘You were involved in it, were you?’
‘You could say that.’
‘Your father was a rebel leader, aye? I’m guessing you fought on the losing side.’
Aila nodded. Should she tell Corthie the truth? She had kept her
mouth shut about what had happened, especially at the end of the war, but there was something about the champion that made her want to divulge every dirty little secret the City held. She downed her brandy and Corthie refilled her glass.
‘Are you trying to get me drunk? I’m not going to sleep with you.’
Corthie laughed. ‘A little bit presumptive of you.’
‘Come on, I’m sure the girls of the Bulwark are throwing themselves at you. I bet you never sleep alone.’
‘I’ve slept alone every night since I got here.’
‘Oh, sorry.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, I’m guessing that the slavers must have…’ She made a snipping motion with her fingers.
‘Any slaver that had tried would’ve lost his head.’
‘Are you religious, then? A virgin? Did they keep you all pure and unblemished?’
‘No. There were girls in the training grounds where I was kept for four years. I had a couple of girlfriends. One, in particular, I saw for several months.’
‘Yeah, what happened?’
‘We drifted apart, I guess. Believe it or not, I could be quite arrogant when I was sixteen.’
‘What, and you’re not arrogant now?’
He shrugged. ‘No, just confident.’
She glanced at him. Damn it, now she quite fancied sleeping with him, just to see what he was like. It had been a while, but her emotions couldn’t bear the thought of falling in love with a mortal, and then seeing him wither away before her eyes. She shook her head and looked away.
‘So, why shouldn’t I trust Khora?’
Aila said nothing for a moment, as an idea formed in her head. ‘Do you want to go for a walk?’
‘In the middle of a riot? Alright, as long as we can take a bottle with us.’
‘Won’t your friends mind?’
He frowned. ‘I imagine they’ll insist on tagging along. They’re supposed to be looking out for me; making sure I don’t get into too much mischief.’ He drained his glass and stood. ‘Come on, let’s tell them.’
He stretched his long arms then staggered. ‘Oops.’
Aila got to her feet and eased her way past him. ‘Remember,’ she whispered, ’they still think I’m Elsie.’
The Mortal Blade: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Magelands Eternal Siege Book 1) Page 19