Got Hope

by Michael Darling

  “The flowers,” Siorradh replied. “They’re blue instead of pink.”

  “They aren’t supposed to be blue already are they?” Hope looked as unsettled as I felt. Over flowers. “Are we lost?”

  “It must be the Máithrín’s doing,” I said. “She’s changed the flowers to mess with us or she’s somehow moved us into her territory.”

  Siorradh surveyed the cliffs and the mist and sighed. “You must be correct.”

  But which is it?

  The road leveled off while the temperature continued to fall with the sun. We pressed forward for two more leagues and found ourselves in a valley that opened onto a grassy plain sprinkled with more forget-me-nots. All blue.

  Siorradh grumbled. “I recognize this valley. It’s fifty leagues from the place where we were supposed to be. We were to meet in the open fields several leagues southwest of a city called Áit Choinne. The Máithrín’s made it impossible for us to arrive at our intended destination by the appointed hour.”

  “Then she’ll have to make accommodations for us. I’m sure she had a reason for shifting sites. I just hope it’s not a reason that’s bad for us.”

  Siorradh tilted his head side-to-side as if debating what to say. Or not say. “It will be good for her, I’m certain.”

  “I can’t believe such magic is even possible.”

  “It’s not possible for everyone. Not a Halfling and not most Eternals. The Máithrín is not most Eternals, however. Other Eternals are afraid of her, apart from the Alder King.”

  I’m scared of her and I haven’t even met her.

  We found a deep, quiet stream half a mile from the mouth of the pass and Siorradh declared it a suitable place to camp. Soon there were tents, cooking fires, and a makeshift stable for the animals. Several women took off their boots and leggings to dip their feet in the stream. From experience, I knew mountain streams were cold but Fáidh and Hope splashed and squealed. I liked seeing them together. The fishermen tried their luck and added brook trout to our supper. The fish was sweet and moist, served with dried apricots and hard cheese.

  A cold dusk stole the last of the light and people posted torches on stakes. I asked Siorradh if it was too hard to bring the Palisade’s glowing spheres and he said the spheres don’t keep wild animals away. Animals are attracted to light—but they’re afraid of fire.

  As before, the tent where I was to sleep was stupidly large and helping to set it up kept me warm. The tent had no additional side rooms but the central chamber was cavernous and the entry space again had rugs on the ground. We hadn’t burdened the animals with furniture but there were portable seats made of wood. They looked like spades with shorter handles that unfolded into surprisingly comfortable chairs.

  Someone had stowed kegs of ale in one of the crates and a circle of people gathered around a firepit with their cups. Fáidh, Hope, Rós, Siorradh and a handful of others came to talk and drink. It was heartening to be surrounded by so many friendly faces. Well, friendly faces plus a helm.

  “I hope Jons is okay.” Hope stared into her ale.

  “He’ll be all right,” I replied. “Fáidh’s incredible spellcasting saved him.”

  “That was your idea,” Fáidh said. “It may be the first time in history a water mage killed anything. Except, perhaps, by drowning.”

  “Seriously?”

  “That was very clever. Don’t report me to the Healer’s Guild.”

  “Is there such a thing?” Great.

  “Probably. Somewhere.”

  I leveled an accusatory finger at Fáidh. “You, milady, are a meanie.”

  The rest of the company settled in a ring around us, two dozen people, besides us, including those who cared for the animals and cooks and guards. I felt their strength lifting me up. These were good people.

  I raised my glass. “To us,” I said. “Halflings, Eternals, brave and true. It’s an honor to journey with you and with our guest, Hope, who is without question a magnificent steed.”

  Everyone froze, their mugs in the air, on the verge of confirming my toast but waiting to see how Hope would react. Hope clapped her hands and laughed and the sound of it was full and bright. “Just what I asked for!” she said.

  Realizing she wasn’t offended, everyone repeated “To us!” and drank with eyebrows raised at varying heights.

  The designated hearty souls took the first watch while the rest of us went to our tents. Fáidh had a tent to the east of mine. And to the west, Hope had a tent of her own. Fáidh gave me a smile before going inside and I felt my cheeks getting hot in the cold evening air. I glimpsed Hope about to go inside her tent as well. She gave a little wave. My cheeks got hotter.

  I needed to find Siorradh.

  He was outside camp, practicing with his sword. The forms he executed resembled Japanese katas with piercing thrusts and diagonal slashes prominent. He moved smoothly and with more energy than I could have mustered after such a strenuous day. I watched, admiring his technique, one movement flowing into the next, the sword like an extension of his will, always going exactly where he wanted. This is how he’d disarmed Jons without hurting him. He completed twenty katas and then came to rest. He sheathed his sword and walked across the grass toward me.

  “Whassup, dude?” He wasn’t even breathing hard.

  “Beautiful work,” I replied.

  “Practice helps me hold onto the things I worked so hard to learn.”

  “I get that. Are you ever going to tell me where you learned these things?”

  “Perhaps. One day.”

  “Because it seems like you grew up in Southern California. You know the culture, the movies, the music. You probably have a surfboard hidden away somewhere.”

  “If I had one, I would admit to it. That would be cool.”

  We looked at each other. Or rather, I stared at a perfectly unmoving suit of armor for a minute. “Okay. One day it is then. There’s magic involved though, right? Nobody goes full out every day and never eats or sleeps.”

  “A member of the King’s Guard goes full out, as you say, until the eternal death.”

  “Eternal death?” That’s new. “There are different kinds of death?”

  Siorradh nodded.

  “Okay. Now you’re getting more enigmatic. And I reserve the word ‘enigmatic’ for things that are hard to figure out. Like particle physics. And women. And Dijon mustard.” I felt certain I’d made his eyebrows rise at that. Assuming Siorradh had eyebrows.

  He said, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

  “Hamlet,” I shook my head. “You’re quoting Hamlet now? Put that after particle physics on the enigmatic scale.”

  Siorradh rested a gauntlet on my shoulder. “You may find, one day, that my secrets are not so surprising. If anything happens to me, do what you can to take me home again so that my secrets can remain safe. Can you do that for me?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but sure.”

  He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Good.”

  He was a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a suit of armor. “I wanted to ask you, what do we do if we have to get away fast?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if things go sideways again, and we need to get away fast, what do we do?”

  “We run.”

  “What if we can’t run?”

  Siorradh shrugged, his armor scraping. “We die.”

  “Not good enough,” I replied. “Even if things go well tomorrow, it’s another three days to get home. I need to stop Marcus from shafting Hope, and I don’t have that kind of time. I have a few pendants that will take some of us back but not enough. I want to try something with the Asaliompair. Do we have any salt?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Fuilaseum

  Sleeping alone was cold, but cold was better than awkward, so I was glad not to have anyone else in my tent. My legs were sore enough that I took advantage of a painkiller leaf. I was tired enoug
h that I didn’t dream. In the morning, I came out of my tent to three rays of sunshine. One from the sky. One from Fáidh. And one from Hope. It wasn’t that they both smiled, it felt like they’d been waiting for me to come out just so they could smile at me.

  This is what conspiracy looks like.

  I busied myself taking down my tent. Soon, the camp was struck and packed and we were ready to move. One of the cooks handed me a loaf of bread that had ham baked in the middle of it. Breakfast in the saddle.

  The only road out of the valley lay to the north. We followed it for a mile or so before a secretary bird landed in front of us and gave us its customary tilted greeting.

  “I am Neil,” the bird said. “I have a message for Prince Luck.”

  Terry must have the day off.

  “Dear Prince. I took the liberty of changing your destination. I hope you don’t mind. It lies five leagues ahead. With pleasant weather, you should reach it by mid-afternoon. That will give you a chance to rest. Then we will meet at sunset as scheduled. Won’t that be nice? Sincerely, the Máithrín.”

  Neil flew away.

  “Five leagues.” I looked at Sir Siorradh. “Do you know what’s there?”

  “If my reckoning serves, It’s the Fuilasaem.”

  “What’s a Fuilasaem?”

  “Coliseum of Blood,” he replied. “Where champions battled to the death.”

  “That doesn’t sound great.”

  “Disputes were once settled there instead of in battle. It preserved our dwindling populace whilst allowing a small kingdom to contend for concessions from a larger kingdom. Even this practice was abandoned and now it is used for other entertainments, I understand.”

  Why doesn’t that make me feel better?

  We moved out. Sir Siorradh took point. The Asaliompair brought up the rear. I let Peachfuzz choose where in the pack she wanted to be.

  Fáidh drew alongside to my left, which meant she was facing away from me in her sidesaddle position. She glanced over her shoulder and flashed her eyes at me—green instead of toffee—with a half-smile. If she intended to communicate something meaningful, I wasn’t getting it. If she intended to deliver a mysterious expression even Sir Siorradh would find enigmatic, mission accomplished.

  We rode on.

  After a while, Hope came alongside me to the right. Her smile was more mischievous than mysterious. As soon as I caught her sparkling eyes she winked—or tried to—and nudged her horse to trot ahead. A few minutes later, she was there again. This time she gave me a soft smile and looked at me until I got uncomfortable and looked away, which was about three seconds. She drifted off. I let some time go by, and then got curious, so I looked for her. She reappeared on my left side. I shook my head and then she leaned in toward me, her face turned up, her big blue eyes half closed. I sighed and moved to kiss her.

  Just before our lips met, she giggled and her horse pulled ahead. Maybe the horse had felt Hope squeeze her with her legs, or maybe the horse was a bigger tease than Hope, but the moment was over. After that, Hope and I laughed every time we looked at each other.

  As advertised, the weather was good with brisk air and few clouds. A well-maintained road sent us over the leagues with ease. We saw villages in the distance with large farms of corn and grain and country roads with heavy wagons pulled by huge black horses.

  At midday, we stopped to water and feed the animals. Cold chicken and rolls and pickles had been prepared for the humans. I ate some but found my stomach filling with butterflies, anticipating the meeting with the Máithrín. I finished what I had taken anyway and read some more from the Book of Stains.

  Like mages, Stains could be classified by their primary source of magic and the book was divided into four sections too, one each for Fire, Water, Air, and Earth. Sub-sections within each recorded different disciplines. At the end of each sub-section were blank pages that I guess would be mine to fill.

  I read standing by Peachfuzz and came across notes on Stains related to necromancy. These involved a spiritual parasite called a cambion, which was the offspring of a deamhan and a mortal. It read like something that would have made Edgar Allen Poe lose sleep. Permanently.

  In the middle of reading about cambions taking over the bodies of the dead, Hope found me. She closed the book and slipped under my arm and quietly collected the kiss we had missed on the road. Her lips were soft. Maybe having a girlfriend wouldn’t be the worst idea. Nobody noticed us kissing except Rós, who just shook her head, smirkwise. Fáidh had stayed apart from us and I caught a glimpse of her checking her saddle while having a conversation with Siorradh.

  Then it was time to mount up and I stowed the book and helped Hope into her saddle. With a deep breath, I swung up onto Peachfuzz’s back and we set off.

  * * *

  The sun was dropping when we sighted the Fuilasaem. Even from the road, miles away, it was imposing. The walls encircling the arena were as large as any stadium in the mortal realm.

  Hope pointed. “It feels like we’re going to a game!”

  I hope we win.

  The Máithrín had a welcoming committee for us. An array of servants lined the road just outside the Fuilasaem, dressed impeccably, and smiling as if we were beloved long-lost cousins instead of the dusty, road-weary rag-tag-alongs from the backwater kingdom to the south. Even the stable boys were dressed in tuxedo jackets with sharp-cornered lapels.

  “Honey, call the sticks. Their hicks are here,” I said.

  Hope laughed.

  We dismounted and turned our horses over to the young men in the monkey suits. Siorradh waved them off and said he needed to stable Trident himself. The hands backed away with a nod. The Asaliompair got escorted into the arena, bearing the crates with the Alder King’s gifts for this evening’s meeting with the Máithrín.

  All I need to do is present the gifts and remain cordial. How hard could it be?

  My stomach wanted to turn, believing on its own that it couldn’t be easy. I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined myself shooting butterflies with threads of fire. It helped.

  “Welcome, Prince Luck.”

  I opened my eyes to see an exquisitely-dressed young woman. She wore a spotless white gown that was almost blinding in the sun. Her hair fell in loose curls down her shoulders all the way to her waist and she had ruby clips to hold it away from her face. The clips, strikingly, matched her ruby-colored eyes.

  “I am called Mátrún. May I show thee to thy quarters?”

  It took a moment for her words to sink in. “Oh. Sure.”

  Hope put her arm through mine and shrugged into my shoulder. “That would be our quarters,” she said. “We’re together.”

  Mátrún didn’t blink. “Delightful. This way.” She turned and walked toward the arena, her hands clasped in front of her. I took her to be the equivalent of Wince in my father’s court, in charge of guiding princely types who might get lost.

  Hope and I followed Mátrún down a flight of steps. We passed a corridor leading to the coliseum proper and it was even larger than it first appeared. The floor of the arena extended below ground and had either been excavated or had been built around a naturally-occurring pit in the earth.

  “Did you see that?” Hope said. “It looks amazing out there.”

  Such a cheerleader.

  “Looks cool.”

  The room Mátrún showed us was a glorified dressing room with all the conveniences, including a bathtub with hot and cold running water, oversized couch, soft chairs, and a magical stone cupboard with cold beverages and snacks in it.

  “Wow!” Hope ran around the room trying to look at everything all at once. She jumped onto the couch and bounced. “It is like going to a game!”

  Mátrún gave a little bow. “Enjoy your stay.”

  I bowed in return. “We’ll do that.” I found myself watching Mátrún leave until she closed the door behind her.

  “Whatcha lookin’ at?” Hope grinned.

  “I’ve never seen anyone with red e
yes before,” I replied. Smooth.

  “Her eyes aren’t on her butt.” Hope’s bigger grin indicated she was teasing.

  “I can play this game three ways,” I replied. “I could say, ‘No but my eyes were on her butt,’ and let you deal with that.”

  Hope laughed.

  I went on, “Or I could say, ‘I was just thinking that her butt wasn’t nearly as cute as your butt,’ and let you deal with that instead.”

  “Uh huh,” Hope replied.

  “Or I could tell you the truth, which is, ‘You don’t know what I was looking at and I was making sure she closed the door because I wanted to ask you a question. Deal with that.”

  “Okay,” Hope replied. I let her put her arms around me. “You’re off the hook. What did you want to ask me?”

  “I wanted to ask you,” I paused for effect, “if you think Mátrún has a cute butt.”

  Hope laughed harder then, the tone deeper.

  “Actually,” I said, “I was wondering if you’d like to go for a run? I’m wound up and a workout would be relaxing.”

  “I can’t run in these clothes. But I know something else that would be relaxing.” She pulled back and put her hands on my chest. Then she wiggled her eyebrows at me, which was usually my move.

  “Uh.” Heat clambered up my face.

  “You,” she paused for effect, “could take a nice, hot bath.”

  “A bath. Right.”

  “You thought I was flirting. There’s a reason for that. It’s because I was flirting.” Hope laughed and pushed off my chest. “It’s okay. Fáidh told me you’re old-fashioned. You’re two-hundred years old, right? I think it’s sweet.”

  “Sweet?”

  Hope held her hands together, curled between her collarbones. She turned her shoulders back-and-forth an inch or two indicating in her body language that she wasn’t totally comfortable with what she wanted to say. “I don’t usually have to work very hard to get a guy’s attention. It builds character for me to have a man resist, right? But I hope you don’t mind that I’m feeling flirty. You just be you and I’ll just be me.”