Broken Quill

by Joe Ducie

  “Did you now? Was there cake?” Tia holstered one of her weapons and cupped my cheek, while keeping the other revolver aimed squarely between my eyes. “Reports of my death, handsome, have been greatly exaggerated.”

  Tia laughed again and planted a quick kiss on my lips. I felt a rush of something that felt like the first sip of scotch on a cold night. Not at all unpleasant, yet it made me shiver.

  “Declan, you know this person? And her... friend?” Annie had her gun drawn and pointed at the large, muscle-bound goon, who had managed to crawl to one knee after I’d thrown him aside. The goon held a curved rapier that looked like a butter knife in his giant hands.

  I released the hilt of my sword and let it fall back into the scabbard. “Annie, this is Tia Moreau. Once upon a time, Commander Moreau, of the Cascade Fleet, charged with protecting the skies above Ascension City, and Arbiter of the Knights Infernal. I inherited her job when she was killed in action. Your command ship was lost, Tia. Along with King Morrow’s and half the Fifth Fleet when the Renegades attacked Avalon and unleashed a Voidflood! How’d you survive?”

  Tia’s face darkened, and she shook her head. “I can’t tell you. Not here, at any rate. It may attract... unwanted attention. The Abstract is listening, Declan.”

  I understood at once and kept my peace for now. Tia had survived by crossing the Void—somehow—which left lingering marks on one’s soul. Marks that could be felt by some pretty nasty creatures. To speak of that cold space between universes would be to court disaster and perhaps to attract the ire of the Voidlings. Few escaped the darkness at all. I could count on one hand the number of people I knew who had walked the Void and lived to tell the tale. Two hands, now, if Tia was to be believed.

  “You never came back?” I said, making it a question. “The war lasted another eighteen months after Morrow fell—”

  “I was done with the war, Declan. Origin save me, but I’d have been no good to the Knights anyway. My mind was shattered at Avalon. Busted as if it were a cruiser fueled with dirty ion rods. I’ve spent many years doing my best to forget it ever happened—what they made us do.”

  “You don’t look broken to me,” I said and meant it.

  “Ever the charmer, Declan Hale. You’ve not changed one bit.”

  “Can you point that gun somewhere else?”

  Tia’s grin grew three sizes. “Oh, sorry, no. No, I can’t. Didn’t I mention? You’re under arrest.”

  Twice in one day.

  Women.

  “What for?” Annie asked.

  “Sensors picked up a strong burst of Will,” Tia said. “We were sent to investigate. I take it that was you.”

  Sensors? The knife must have tripped whatever sensors Tia was talking about. “It was me, yeah. I didn’t see any sensors.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. They’re buried. Just some old lodestones with Infernal Will-detection runes on them,” she said. “They match up to a grid map back in the sheriff’s office. This whole sector lit up like a Christmas tree about fifteen minutes ago. Ace and I were sent to investigate, and here you are.”

  I laughed. “Here I am, and here you are.” Seeing her again felt good—really good. We had been fast friends, back in the day. “Where is here, Tia?”

  Tia looked at me sideways. “You mean you don’t know?”

  I shrugged. “Annie and I took a sort of roundabout way of getting here. We almost didn’t reach Forget at all.”

  Tia gave me a curious grin. “Declan, welcome to Meadow Gate.”

  “Meadow...? Oh. Oh.” Her smile was infectious. “Of all the places in all Forget...”

  “Where did you think you were going?” Tia asked.

  “I was trying to get to Ascension City, have a word with Jon, but...” Did I mention the rune branded into my arm? I hadn’t seen Tia in almost eight years. A person could change a lot in eight seconds, never mind the best part of a decade. Could I trust her? What about whoever else lived here? No, it wasn’t about trust. Best to keep the rune a secret and my power suspect for now. “But I’m a little out of practice, I guess. We used the Atlas Lexicon, and the damn train derailed.” Also best not to mention the detour to Charlie’s world, either.

  Tia grimaced. “Oh, nasty. You’re lucky to be alive.”

  “Don’t I know it...” I looked at Annie and, after an uncertain moment, given the revolver Tia still held on me, she holstered her service weapon and let Ace the Giant get to his feet. “So, under arrest?”

  “Sorry,” Tia said, and tapped the star pinned to her overalls. “Given that I used to be a Knight, the sheriff roped me into a few deputized shifts a week on the Daywatch. Using as much Will as you did, while not technically illegal, is frowned upon, and we’ll need to file a report with the Lord Mayor’s office. I think, given the circumstances, I won’t be issuing an infringement notice today.”

  Annie chuckled. “Oh, she’s definitely a cop, Declan.”

  “An infringement notice for using Will?” I balked at the idea. “What next, fined for blinking?”

  My old friend shrugged. “Meadow Gate has some strange customs, you know. While using Will isn’t illegal, you do not have a license to practice the art and a membership with the guild.”

  “A magician’s license?” Annie muttered. “How strangely... normal you make all this seem.”

  I grimaced. “Ugh, we’re not magicians. It’s not... You know what? I give up. Get me a pointy hat and a silvery beard.”

  “Don’t forget the half-moon spectacles.” Annie grinned. “Oh, and a magic wand!”

  “I take it you’re a bit new to all this?” Tia asked as Ace stumbled to her side rubbing his neck and glaring frost-coated daggers at me.

  “Annie’s a police officer, too,” I said.

  “Detective,” she corrected. “It’s nice to meet you both. Am I under arrest?”

  Tia mulled this over for a moment. “No, just this idiot, I guess. Come on, let’s head back to town and get this mess sorted out—I could use a drink.”

  “There’s the Tia I know and love. Lead the way, Deputy Moreau.”

  “No,” Ace grunted, and pointed a thick finger at me. “You up front where I can keep an eye on you, Shadowless.”

  I rolled my eyes. Preceded by my reputation once again, I set off along the eastern edge of the honeyberry crop, back the way Tia and Ace had come from. I couldn’t see the town of Meadow Gate yet, but given that only twenty minutes or so had trickled past since our arrival, I guessed it was close—on the other side of the hills ahead.

  “Huh,” Tia said, staring at the old hay crunching under my black shoes. One day I’d learn and wear a proper pair of boots out into the field. Walking through that tropical forest a world back had scuffed the leather and left me with a few blisters. “You really don’t have a shadow. I thought that part was made up. What happened?”

  “He sold it to the devil,” Ace grumbled, casting me another glare. Not making any friends there. “’Swhat I heard.”

  “Come off it,” Tia said.

  “What did happen?” Annie asked. “You may have told me, but then you’ve told me a lot in the last few days...”

  “No, Ace has it right, mostly.” Tia blinked, her smile fading, so I continued. “I was tricked by one of the Everlasting in Atlantis. Lord Oblivion, with eyes of blood, as that old rhyme goes... He promised to end the Tome Wars, and I believed him because I thought I could outsmart him. It. Him.” Oblivion now used what was left of Tal as a host. “Her. Doesn’t matter. I had the Roseblade, you know.” The knife, Myth, was still tucked safely into my belt. “And with the Roseblade I challenged the gods and won.”

  “Oblivion took your shadow?” Tia asked quietly. “I always thought the Everlasting were fairy tales. You know, proper fairy tales. The kind that aren’t real.”

  “He surely did and cast it screaming across the Void.” I tapped the side of my nose. “Another reason we should limit such Abstract conversations. Those creatures are kind of attracted to me now. Had to dest
roy one just a few months back...”

  “No shadow.” Tia shook her head to clear it and increased her stride toward the rolling hills. “Come on, let’s hurry back.”

  The walk only took five minutes, curving around the honeyberry crop and the lower foothills. A well-traveled dirt path became a well-traveled paved road. A steady stream of folk moved past us, up and down the hill, dressed in an absurd mix of farm gear, suits, and sunny weather clothing. A cross section of life on a hundred different worlds, much like the Atlas Lexicon and Ascension City.

  The town of Meadow Gate sprawled outward in rings from the main road, which cut a straight path up and across the hills. Cottages and narrow, cobblestoned lanes headed up in uneven levels around the hills and dipped down into the valleys. As with all populated Forgetful worlds, old and new mixed with simple and complex. A man pulling a horse and cart stacked with barrels of the honeyberries was chatting into a display screen strapped around his wrist and laughing. A woman who could have stepped out of the French Renaissance fiddled with the control panel on an information board. Kids on goddamn hover-boards giggled and ran circles around Ace. First time I saw him grin.

  “So what is this place?” Annie asked, trying hard not to crane her neck every which way. “Meadow Gate?”

  “A sanctuary of sorts,” I said, scratching my chin. “Neutral territory as decreed by the Ragnarok Accords. A place of asylum and refuge—”

  “It’s a quaint little town,” Tia said. “Well, compared to somewhere like Ascension City. We’ve got about seventy thousand residents at the moment, most of them refugees from the Tome Wars. And, yes, it’s one of a handful of places on a handful of worlds declared neutral by both the Knights and the Renegades. No warring here.”

  Tia led us up a set of limestone steps curving around a hill dotted with white houses and buildings shining in the sun. Everything was very clean and very green. Meadow Gate flourished with exotic plant life and impossibly vibrant vegetation. At the top of the steps, a cobblestone street stretched in a snaking curve through the heart of the town, following the alternating elevation of the land.

  The main strip running through the town was dotted with everything from silk merchants to armorers, spice dealers, and exotic trade stalls. Just beyond the markets stretched a road of townhouses, a warren of little alleyways, and a bunch of municipal-looking buildings that had to be the heart of the town and the local government offices.

  A small library made of white columned marble and glass stood on the crown of the hill, surrounded by a lush park and natural ponds.

  It took only about five minutes from the markets and the library to reach the Sheriff’s Office. Reminiscent of law enforcement the worlds over, a wooden sign bearing a golden star swung gently in the breeze on metal hooks above the door. As the sun began to sink below the hills, sending a burnished orange haze across the sky, Tia and Ace led us inside. So far we had failed to attract any unwanted attention, but that couldn’t last. Meadow Gate was home to a great slew of war refugees, who would have cause to blame me for past sufferings.

  “Sheriff Coras,” Tia said to a large man who wore a gold star on his chest and sat behind a heavy mahogany desk. “This is Declan Hale.”

  Coras did a double take and looked me up and down. His mouth opened and closed a few times like a floundering goldfish. Tia seemed to enjoy his dumbfounded expression.

  “Hi, Sheriff,” I said. “Er, nice hat.”

  Coras recovered and rested a hand on the hilt of his service weapon. I felt Annie tense at my side. “Why isn’t he cuffed?” Coras asked. “And he’s armed, Tia!”

  “Last I checked, it wasn’t a crime to be armed in Meadow Gate, Harry,” Tia said, with a slight frown. “And he hasn’t broken any laws. Misdemeanor, at the very most. What’s the matter?”

  “Don’t you know who he is? What he’s done? He’s exiled!”

  Ace cleared his throat. “Was him what set the sensors off, Sheriff. We found him and his friend in the western fields, just below Amberwell Rise.”

  Coras wagged a finger at Tia as if that proved something. “What are you doing here, Hale?”

  Keeping my temper in check, I folded my arms. “Wondering that myself. How long’s this going to take, Tia?”

  “Not long. Just a few formalities and a report for the Mayor’s Office—”

  The sheriff adjusted his gun belt and matched my stance, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll ask again,” he said, “why’ve you come to Meadow Gate? This is a peaceful place.”

  “And he’s not broken that peace,” Tia said.

  “Now, Tia—”

  “What, Harry?”

  Coras welled up, spots of color high in his cheeks, and then exhaled a sigh that suggested long suffering. “I’ll want a full report before you leave tonight.” He hefted himself up from his chair, coffee mug in hand, and stomped through the back of the office.

  “Sorry about him,” Tia said. “He’s good at what he does, but he can be a bit suspicious of newcomers. Particularly... ex-Knights.”

  “He hired you,” I pointed out.

  Tia chuckled and pulled over a wooden chair from one of the other desks so both Annie and I could sit. “Yeah well, he has his reasons. Shall we get this over with before you two duel to the death or some such nonsense?”

  “We shall,” I said and took a seat.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Reminiscent Exile

  Night had fallen when we emerged from the sheriff’s office. I rolled my shoulders a few times, working out an ache that had settled just below my neck. In the end, and after a slew of pointless paperwork, I’d gotten off with a warning and a promise not to create any sort of Will-related ruckus, which wouldn’t be too hard, thanks to Emissary’s damned brand.

  The streets of Meadow Gate were busy at night as the restaurants and little bars along the main, meandering strip did a roaring trade. My stomach grumbled at the smell of hot, greasy food from a dozen different street vendors set up behind carts and small stalls.

  “Where we headed, Tia?” I asked.

  “Question for the ages, Declan. But tonight, back to my place,” she said. “I own a tiny bar a few streets over. Nothing fancy—just a stretch of timber and a few tables, but it’s home, and we can get that drink I promised you earlier. I’ve got a spare room, too, so you and Annie can flip a coin for that or one of the couches.”

  I perked up a bit at the mention of a bar, although I was looking forward to a stretch of sleep more than anything, even food and drink. Time was a-wastin’, but meeting Tia in this way, after so long, and given that I was in dire need of allies against Emissary and his dreary masters... Unexpected fortune is something to be wary of and yet grasped—hard, in this case. “I’m going to grab something to eat from one of these stalls. Annie?”

  “It all smells good. What’s that?” She pointed at a large wok of sizzling meat and vegetables. The vendor spooned a heavy helping onto a thick piece of pita bread, drenched it in some exotic, heavenly-scented sauce, and rolled it up tight. “I’ll take one of those.”

  “I think I’ll join you. Tia?” My old long-dead-not-dead friend nodded. “And how about you, Ace?”

  The big man shook his head. I had the feeling he thought Sheriff Harry should have stuffed me in a cell for the night or run me out of town. “Three it is.” I shifted my sword and retrieved the dwindling pouch of gems from my pocket.

  Dinner was hot and delicious, bursting with striking, spicy flavor. Easy to forget, back on True Earth, just how varied and even alien some of the sights, sounds, smell, and tastes of Forget could be. I think I’d missed the food, more than the place itself, during my exile.

  Tia’s place was down a busy little cobblestone alleyway, set in the bend of the lane and overlooking a valley full of honeyberry fields below. A simple two-story cottage leaned as though it were a windblown fencepost against the side of the hill, charming in an old-world sort of way. A few soft, glowing torches lined the lane, and a steady s
tream of people, their voices of merriment ringing out in the dull light, wandered up and down the alley.

  Tia let us into her cottage bar and flicked a switch just on the inner wall. Light flared from two crystal chandeliers overhead, casting the bar and a small lounge area, dotted with oak tables and leather couches, in a dim but warm ambience. Twin window alcoves overlooked the streets, some of the panes plastered with band posters and dinner menus.

  “Well, here we are. It’s not much, but it’s mine,” Tia said. “I spend most of my time in the kitchen when we’re open, and Ace tends bar.”

  “It’s lovely,” Annie said. “Very inviting. Look at that old fireplace!”

  “Tiana,” Ace said, avoiding my gaze, “he’ll bring down a whole world of trouble we don’t need. He shouldn’t be here.”

  “We’re not opening tonight, Ace,” Tia said. “Take a paid night off, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Ace huffed and blood rushed crimson to his cheeks. He clenched and unclenched his fists, staring from me to Tia, once to Annie, and back again. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stomped out of the little bar. Tables, chairs, and charming old fixtures trembled in his wake.

  “Sorry to be so much trouble,” I said.

  Tia rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at me. “No, no you’re not. You never were. But don’t mind Ace. His heart’s in the right place. He thinks you’re bad news for a sweet girl like me. And who’s to say he’s wrong, hmm?”

  Annie tried to stifle a yawn and failed. “Sorry,” she said. “Long day yesterday and an even longer night last night. Tia, you mentioned something about a spare room?”

  “Of course. Just up the stairs and second on the left. Would you like to join us for a nightcap, Annie? Help you sleep.”