by K.N. Lee
“Thank you, sir.” The girl smiled back at him, accepting the matches with tiny dirt smudged hands. “My grandfather sends me out to sell them every day. It’s a very important job.” She looked up at him hopefully. “I don’t suppose that you, maybe, might need …” she trailed off hopefully.
“Why, of course I need matches,” Jack said with a grin. “Any traveler worth his salt needs matches, wouldn’t you say, Isabelle?” He looked up at her over his shoulder.
Isabelle shrugged. “Maybe?” They already had flint.
He blinked, his grin melting away in puzzlement. He turned back to the child. “I’ll give you five coppers for the lot of them.”
Isabelle frowned at his back. That was much more than what they were worth. But the child was so overwhelmed by his obvious generosity that it was hard not to smile at her excitement.
“You have a good heart, sir,” the girl said, carefully pocketing the coppers. “You should try your hand at retrieving a golden apple.”
“What do you mean?” Jack asked. The little girl looked up at him with solemn dark eyes.
“It’s the enchanted maze,” she explained. She talked to Jack like they were the only two people in the world, oblivious to passersby. “Anyone who searches for the fruit with pure intent shall find the golden fruit. Anyone who searches for selfish reasons,” she shrugged, “find themselves back at the maze entrance.”
“I see.” Jack was silent for a moment, considering the child’s story. “Where can I find this maze?”
She held out her little hands. “I don’t know, sir. I heard some strangers talk to my grandfather about it.”
Jack patted her on the head. “Take care, child.”
“My name is Gwendi, sir.”
“Take care, Gwendi.” Jack stood, stretching his lean arms. “Let’s go find that inn,” he said to Isabelle. Jack carried so many matches he was having a hard time fitting them into his pockets as they walked.
“Did you need to buy all of the matches?” Isabelle eyed him with exasperation. The matches had been a waste of money they could have used for food.
Jack looked at her, confused. “How could I not?”
Isabelle didn’t answer, taken aback by his question.
There was only one inn in town. When they arrived, it was already packed. The handsome, golden haired young man who’d hurt Gwendi was talking loudly, the spectators hanging on his every word. “And just as I was sitting down to eat my porridge, I was surrounded by three ferocious bears, each one of them bigger than the last, each one determined to eat me. Yet I didn’t despair. I took out my sword, and—”
“Bear cubs aren’t ferocious, even if there are three of them,” Jack said loudly. He folded his arms across his chest, his green eyes narrowed. Anger hung over him like a cloud.
The golden haired man stared at him, astounded by the taunt. “Who are you?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” Jack said evenly. “But I can tell you one thing. I don’t hurt little girls.”
The stranger’s eyes flared with outrage. He pushed his way through the crowd to stand in front of Jack and Isabelle. He was a couple inches shorter than Jack, but his shoulders were broader. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”
Jack’s face betrayed a flicker of uncertainty and the man smiled. “Yes, that’s right. You have reason to fear. For I, I am Braeden Roir, son of Bearnin. I am here to retrieve a golden apple and bring honor to my family. I will enter the maze, complete my quest, and become the next Fabled Hunter!”
The crowd clapped and cheered, including the innkeeper, and Braeden took a bow, his golden locks swaying.
Isabelle exhaled heavily and even Jack looked relieved. Braeden wasn’t a noble.
“Let’s go,” Jack muttered to Isabelle. He turned and stalked outside.
“This is the only inn in town,” Isabelle protested, following him out.
“I’d rather sleep outside than share an inn with that pig,” Jack said. Isabelle didn’t have to ask who he meant by that.
“Where are we going then?” she asked.
“We’ll continue to Erum,” Jack replied. His jaw was set, determined. “If we leave now we’ll be able to cover a few miles before dark.”
They took a different way through the town. It looked dirtier here, poorer. They passed a particularly shabby house with half the roof missing.
“Sir?” Gwendi stood in the yard, a big smile on her filthy face. “What are you doing here?” An older man appeared at the doorway of the house, bent and gray. He watched Jack and Isabelle, his craggy face unreadable.
“We’re leaving Tenebris,” Jack replied. He patted his trouser pockets, overflowing with matches. “Thanks to you, I have everything I need.”
Understanding dawned on the old man’s face and he motioned to them. “You’re the gentleman who helped my granddaughter. Please, come in and stay awhile.”
Isabelle hesitated—the crooked little house looked like it could collapse at any moment—but Jack walked toward the man. “Thank you, good sir.”
The house wasn’t any cleaner on the inside and the table only had three legs, but Gwendi and her grandfather were gracious hosts, offering them water and some coarse hard bread that Isabelle peered at nervously. It looked awful. She nibbled at her piece and hurt her teeth.
“You’ve done a right noble deed helping Gwendi out, sir,” the old man said, lowering himself tiredly in a sagging armchair. “Those coppers will feed us for a week.” He smiled at his granddaughter. “She works hard for her poor old grandfather.”
“I don’t mind,” Gwendi said stoutly and the old man laughed.
“With the ache in my limbs, I would have starved long ago if not for her hard-working spirit.”
Isabelle looked at Gwendi. Thin and worn looking, the child couldn’t be a day over nine. “She supports you then?”
“Aye,” the grandfather admitted. “We got along better when my wife was here, but she passed over a year ago.”
“Your granddaughter told me about a tree that bears golden apples,” Jack said. “Is that a local legend?”
The old man nodded. “It’s there, so people say, but it’s so rare when someone actually succeeds in picking one that I don’t know that most folk believe in it any more. It’s not talked about much. I’ve never seen one.”
“Where can I find it?” Jack pressed. Isabelle felt a thrill of excitement. A golden apple would qualify them for the tournament for sure. She thought of golden haired Braeden and frowned. They’d have to hurry.
The bent, old man paused for a moment, thinking. “I don’t remember. But legend has it, it will find you, if you seek it, and if you’re worthy.”
Isabelle felt a surge of annoyance. That didn’t help them at all. “That seems very strange,” she said stiffly.
The old man shrugged “Most magic is.”
Jack smiled and stood, bowing politely to the old man. “Thank you for your hospitality, but we must be on our way. Thank you for the story. Perhaps we’ll find it ourselves.”
He was silent until they’d left town, red head bowed in thought.
“So, what now?” Isabelle pressed. “Off to Erum?”
“Hmm?” Jack started. “Oh. Yes, I suppose so.”
10
Tenebris was surrounded by forest, and they’d traveled less than five minutes from the gate before Jack declared they would stop for the night. He wouldn’t say why, and promptly fell asleep after a highly unsatisfying dinner of foraged greens.
Ash rejoined them, and Isabelle soon fell asleep lying next to the shaggy gray wolf.
When they awoke the next morning, a scene of twisted vines, trees, and foliage greeted them, a small opening in the tangle of vegetation.
“It’s the maze,” Jack declared, his face flushed with excitement. He smiled at Isabelle. “Are you ready?”
Isabelle nodded.
“What’s your reason for getting the apple?” Jack asked.
Isabelle hesitated. “To help my fami
ly.” And to become a Hunter. That’s pure enough, isn’t it?
“May the best man win.”
Jack and Isabelle spun around to see Braeden standing several yards away, leaning against a tree trunk. “What are you doing here?” Isabelle snapped, and the man smirked.
“For the same reason as you.” He strode forward, fingering the large sword he had sheathed on his belt.
He smirked at Isabelle as he passed. “Better wait here. Even your stupid boyfriend has a better chance than you at finding that apple, sweetheart.”
Jack took a step forward, his face twisting in anger.
Isabelle reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Don’t waste your anger on Goldilocks, Jack. He isn’t worth it.”
Braeden snorted in derision and unsheathing his sword, entered the maze.
“We better hurry,” Isabelle said. “We don’t want him to find it first.”
Jack shrugged, his anger evaporating. “If the legend is true, he won’t find it anyway.” He walked forward and ducked low to enter the maze of tangled vines.
The maze was gloomy and quiet, its closely woven roof of plants cutting out most daylight and forest sounds. Isabelle felt a tendril of unease when they came to the first bend. Paths split off in several directions, each one too dark to see the end of. “Which one do you think Braeden took?”
Jack shrugged. “I have no idea.” He unsheathed two of his knives. “I don’t expect any danger, but you might want to nock an arrow just in case.”
Isabelle complied. The handle of the bow felt comforting in her hand.
The maze continued to twist and wind, and within half an hour, deposited them back at the entrance. Ash stood a few feet away outside of the maze, watching them expressionlessly.
Jack and Isabelle looked at each other. “That … didn’t work right,” Jack admitted. He peered into the dark gloomy tangle of branches and vines. “Hmm.”
“Let’s try it again, separated this time,” Isabelle suggested.
Jack nodded. “Okay.” He cast her a warning glance. “Call out if you need any assistance, and I’ll do what I can to come.”
Isabelle smiled at him in what she thought was a reassuring manner, and entered first. The maze looked the same and carried the same oppressive silence. She walked quickly and turned at the first available bend. She walked down that one and turned again, and again.
Less than five minutes later she stood at the entrance.
“Confound it,” she muttered. “Third time’s the charm.” She turned around and came face-to-face with Braeden.
The man towered over her threateningly. “So you, at least, are having a difficult time of it as well.” He frowned. He had a streak of dirt on his nose and his long hair was messy, with bits of leaves and twigs stuck in it.
“Did you try to push through the maze walls?” Isabelle asked and the man shrugged.
“Maybe. The vines grow too thickly though.” He peered at Isabelle. “Why are you trying to get the apple?”
“To help my family,” she said and Braeden smirked.
“You’re lying,” he said. “That’s a noble enough cause, yet here you are.”
Isabelle lifted her chin. “I don’t see you faring any better.” I wasn’t lying. I just haven’t said the whole truth out loud.
Braeden shrugged. “True enough. Perhaps I’ll have another go at it.” He swung his arm out ahead of him. “Ladies first.”
Isabelle marched ahead of him. The last thing she heard was Ash’s snarl of warning. Something crashed into her head and all went dark.
11
Wet.
Isabelle opened her eyes to find Ash licking her face.
The wolf leaped about, tail wagging furiously when she saw Isabelle had awoken.
“Isabelle!” Jack ran out of the maze and knelt down to inspect her. “What happened?”
Her head throbbed with pain. Isabelle tentatively touched the back of her head, feeling a massive goose egg. “Braeden happened.”
Jack muttered something under his breath as he helped her to her feet. “Do you need to rest? Are you feeling dizzy?” He placed a hand on the small of her back, steadying her.
Isabelle waved off his attempts to help. “Braeden is still in there. I need to keep trying.”
Jack was looking at her, an odd expression on his face. “What?” Isabelle asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Come on, let’s get back to Tenebris.”
“Why?” Isabelle followed him and Ash trailed them both, glancing over her shoulder.
Isabelle looked back as well, and stumbled. “It’s gone!”
“What is?” Jack followed her gaze. The enchanted maze had disappeared. The hair rose on the back of Isabelle’s neck. “Is Braeden still in it?” She didn’t like the man, but the idea of him being lost forever in it made her feel sorry for him.
Jack shrugged. “If so, at least he can’t hurt people anymore.” His face was hard with anger. “That’s two females he’s attacked. Stupid brute.”
They arrived at the gates in just a few minutes and were allowed entrance. Jack walked confidently through the dirty streets, returning to the crooked little house of Gwendi and her grandfather.
Gwendi was inside by the door, stirring a pot of soup on the rickety old stove. Isabelle grimaced. From the looks of it, the soup was mainly water, with a few sad, lonely lumps of something she couldn’t identify.
“We can’t stay,” Jack declared. He was chewing his lower lip the way he did when he was unsure of himself. “I’m on my way to become a Hunter, you know.”
“Well, good luck to you, young man,” Gwendi’s grandfather said. He looked puzzled, and Isabelle knew he was wondering the same thing she was: Why had Jack returned?
“I only returned to give you this.” Jack reached into his rucksack and pulled out what looked like a golden ball. “You won’t have to sell matches ever again.”
Gwendi took it, speechless, her eyes wide with amazement. She was holding a golden apple.
“Magic that be,” the old man breathed. “Is that…? Did you really…? It’s just a local legend.”
Jack grinned and shrugged. “A local legend that happened to be true.”
Gwendi hugged Jack fiercely around the waist. “Thank you, sir,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
“I … don’t know what to say,” the old man finally managed. His eyes looked as wide as Isabelle felt her own must be. “Heaven bless you, sir.”
“I know what it’s like to struggle and scrape by,” Jack said simply. “I hope this makes things easier.”
They left a short while later. Isabelle was silent until Tenebris was behind them. “You do realize you could have used that apple to secure your placement in the tourney,” she said quietly.
Jack was silent for a moment as they walked along. “What was your real reason for wanting it?” he asked.
Isabelle opened her mouth to say it was for her family and stopped. “I would have used it to enter the king’s tournament.”
“I wanted to help that girl and her grandfather,” Jack said simply. “There will always be monsters to defeat and quests to complete, but I knew I probably wouldn’t get another chance to help them.”
Isabelle felt her face warm with embarrassment. She should have wanted something selfless too. That’s why she couldn’t find it.
“But I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Braeden hit you,” Jack said. His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with anger. “If I’d know he was going to do that I wouldn’t have left you alone.”
At a snort behind them they glanced over at Ash. She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, tongue hanging over very sharp teeth.
Isabelle smiled slowly. “I think Ash kept things from getting worse.”
They walked in comfortable silence after that. From the corner of her eye, Isabelle watched the tall redheaded man stride along. She smiled. The girl was right. Jack had a good heart.
12
The city of Erum was massi
ve. The only city Isabelle had been to was Seabound and was thus the only thing she could compare it to, but Erum was at least twice as large. It was several miles away from the edge of the forest, set high on a hill, its great walls made of imposing black rock.
Jack and Isabelle had walked for days, traveling close to the river that wound its way toward the city. Reaching Erum at midday, there was still a line of peddlers, farmers, merchants, and footsore weary travelers standing in line, awaiting entrance through the gates.
Ash stayed away from the city, unwilling to enter. Isabelle saw the sense in it; a wolf wouldn’t be a welcome visitor. She’d promised Ash she’d come back in a couple of days and bring some food. Ash understood, leading Isabelle to wonder again if Ash was an unusual animal, or if Isabelle had just been blind to their intelligence before.
“This is taking forever,” Jack said for the fifth time, fidgeting as they stood in line. He glared at the potato farmer standing in front of them. “This man and his stupid wagon have seriously been sitting here for an hour, at least.”
“Not that long,” Isabelle said, but she was feeling impatient too.
Inch by inch, the line eventually gave way until it was their turn. The guards asked for names, but other than that, let them through.
The city was a hubbub of noise. Merchants called out to passersby, street vendors put out their wares, hoping people would take notice. One hawker grabbed Isabelle by the arm, trying to put a beaded bracelet on her wrist, all while telling her how it would complement her complexion.
Jack roughly pushed the man away, bracelet clattering to the cobblestone street. “Back off.” He glared at the man before striding away, Isabelle’s hand firmly clasped in his. She heard him mutter something about overbearing merchants and ‘competition,’ but what the last word was supposed to mean, Isabelle didn’t know.
It was dusty and hot, the first warm day of spring. She wiped sweat off her forehead. “I’m thirsty.”
Jack hesitated, then tugged her over to a woman selling odd looking brown fruits. He gave the woman a few coppers, and she procured one of the fruits, split in half. Handing one of the halves to Isabelle, he watched Isabelle as she put it to her lips, and laughed when she exclaimed her pleasant surprise at the liquid in it. “It’s called water-fruit, even if it doesn’t quite taste like water.”