Fairmist

by Todd Fahnestock

  She opened her mouth to refuse, but said nothing. She stood in indecision for a long time, facing down the drunk who seemed to have lost all interest in her. Then, without a word, she stooped, snatched her cloak, and hurried away.

  Chapter 17

  Adora

  The mist closed around her as she left the city, the droplets becoming larger as if the forest was their true home. She weaved her way through the forest, following a trail the Order had trained her to find, a trail no woodsman could see in this dark.

  She continued past the little clearing where she had first met Grei as a boy and on to the two impressive elm trees that disappeared into the white overhead. She waited, calmly counting to seven in her mind.

  “I seek an endless future,” she said softly. The trees leaned outward, and she walked between them. As she passed the elms, the forest transformed. The floating droplets in the air disappeared almost entirely. Only a few could be seen, little rogue sparkles. The overcast sky was visible through the leafy canopy above, and the trees gave way to the home of Baezin’s Order: seven tall houses of black stone. They looked like they had been pushed up by an earthquake, and they glistened like water at midnight. The largest was the Order House, Lyndion’s home, and the place where the Order gathered to discuss matters of importance.

  She took a deep breath and went to the double doors of the Order House.

  They opened on silent hinges, and Shemmel stood there. His thinning, wispy hair drooped down on either side of his face. Shemmel was the purest of them, free of the Order’s politics. He was one of the lucky people who never questioned his place in the world.

  “Dear Shemmel,” she said, taking the hand of the Speaker of the Clerks. “It has been a long time since you’ve answered the door for guests.”

  “It has been a long time since someone important crossed the threshold,” he said in his creaky voice.

  “I’ve visited many times.”

  “But you were never as important as you are now,” he said. It was something a father would say. A father who cared for you. “Child, your courage humbles us all,” he continued.

  “Not yet,” she said softly.

  He patted her hand, then turned and led her into the foyer where the white marble floor began. The contrast with the black walls was stark, and not unintentional. In this place, all decisions were black or white. Either you assisted the prophecy and sought an endless future, or you stood in its way.

  They rounded the corner and Adora stopped just outside the council room. She put her hand on a polished area of the black wall. Under her fingers, she felt the chiseled letters of the prophecy, The Whisper Prince. Lyndion had told her the history. The Faia had delivered this map of a brighter future, and the Order had inscribed it here.

  The version that had leaked into the world, the single stanza nursery rhyme that Grei murmured to his conquests, was so short it made no sense at all. Supposedly, that escaped verse had been a grave mistake. None were supposed to know the prophecy, even a small bit of it, except the Order. But the more Adora learned, the more she was certain nothing happened by accident when it came to the prophecy of the Faia. If The Whisper Prince was known all over the empire, it was because the Faia meant it to be known.

  Flashes of memory ran through her, racing back across seven years to the moment she had first arrived here.

  She swam through the air like it was water, swam for her life with the Faia right beside her. Harder, harder, breathing labored, arms aching, heel trailing blood, until she fell, exhausted, into the South Forest.

  A young boy found her. A sweet boy, the only one beside the Faia who wanted to help her. He draped his cloak over her, and she kissed him. And then a slink found them. It came for both of them, and she begged the boy to run. The slink pointed at them, his rainbow eyes swirling, and she died.

  Except she hadn’t.

  She woke up to seven old men standing over her, tending to her wounds.

  “I am Lyndion,” the tallest of them said, his voice deep and strong.

  Lyndion the Conqueror had ruled Thiara a hundred years ago.

  “Have I died?” she asked.

  Lyndion smiled, one of the only smiles he would ever give her. “No, child. You are very much alive.”

  “Then how are you Emperor Lyndion?”

  “I am merely named for him,” Lyndion said.

  “But the slink—”

  “We saved you, but now we need you to save us. To save the empire...”

  The memory faded and she was left with the words on the wall, the words that had shaped the rest of her life. They glistened in the lamplight.

  The Whisper Prince

  A lost fair lady looked into the mist

  The Whisper Prince whispered of love

  The lady saw slaughter, and terror, and rifts

  The prince, he whispered of love

  Love came swimming along the lost road

  Her heel painted with blood

  The shadows came charging with wrath born of old

  Their claws dripping with blood

  With blood and from fire the shadows unwound

  Losing souls too many to measure

  The flesh and the faces of others were bound

  And the shadows all took of their measure

  Their measure felled hordes; their fires untamed

  But the prince, before them, he stood

  One hand on the rose, one hand in the flames

  The prince, before them all, stood

  All stood when the horns of the realm gave alarm

  Too late for all and for one

  But he sent them away

  And never did say

  Why a princess lay down for his charm

  She closed her eyes, looking away as though the poem had seared her. A tickle of premonition shivered up her spine, painful, and she knew in an instant that this was the last time she would come to the Order House. As they had told her, as the prophecy demanded, Adora would go to Thiara and Grei would take her life. With her blood and the training he would receive from the Faia, he could send the slinks howling back to their abyss. That was her destiny.

  She shook her head and strode quickly to the double-doors of the meeting room and yanked them open.

  Six men stood in the wide room, and they jerked to look at her as the doors banged against the wall. They were the Speakers for their Houses. The House of Academics, the House of Growth, the House of Consuls, the House of Clerks, the House of Seekers, and the House of the Lost. The seventh, Lyndion, the Bright Speaker, did not flinch. He merely watched Adora as though he had expected her entrance. Though old, Lyndion was tall and powerfully built. He looked more like a Highblade than an ascetic, and it was a rare thing that surprised him. He knew Adora better than any of them. He knew she would enter the chamber angry.

  The long, oval table filled the big room, and each Speaker stood behind his seat, some with wide eyes, some with disapproving frowns, all with long, gray beards. They always waited to sit when she was a guest.

  She paused there, fixing them with an imperious stare: one last rebellion before she did their work for them. What would they say if she left them here? If she walked away? If she went to Grei and told him there were spiders in the forest, spinning webs in between cracks of history. Told him to run away with her forever and leave this broken empire behind.

  Lyndion’s deep voice brought her gaze to him. “Seven years of courage will soon be bound into one moment,” he said. “Are you ready?” He asked her that every time she visited. His gaze flicked to her bosom, then farther down the length of her before finding her eyes again, like he was appraising some chattel he owned.

  “I will be,” she said, the answer she always used, the answer that nettled him. He wanted an unequivocal ‘yes’, and that was one of the few things she could deny him. She had come to love many of these funny old men and their servants over the years, like Shemmel. But some she hated. And she hated Lyndion most of all.

&nbs
p; “I hope you will be ready soon,” he said darkly. “The Event is upon us.”

  She strode into the room. “I know what time it is. And I know who lies in my bed at this very moment while every Highblade in Fairmist seeks him.”

  The six Speakers murmured in approval, nodding their heads. Lyndion held up his hand, and they fell into silence. He turned a sour smile upon her.

  “Then the time has come,” Lyndion said.

  “He goes to the falls,” the Speaker for the Consuls said.

  Adora nodded. “Tonight?”

  “Yes,” Lyndion said. “Now.”

  Chapter 18

  Adora

  Adora left the Order House and returned to her room in Fairmist. As she closed the door, she looked at Grei. If either of them ever had a moment for innocence in their lives, it was over. Grei was going to have to work harder than he’d ever worked before. They were going to the Faia, and She was going to train him. Grei was going to become something more than human.

  “Grei,” she murmured, hating to break the silence. His face looked so peaceful in slumber, and she wanted him to stay that way. She sat down on the bed and touched his shoulder, shook him gently.

  He blinked awake, his body tensing. He touched her forearm. “Adora.”

  “It’s time for me to tell you. For me to show you everything,” she said.

  He smiled sleepily, sliding his other hand onto her thigh. “Show me everything?”

  “Oh, so now you want me to seduce you?” she asked.

  He sat up, stretching, then looked into her eyes. “Mmm, I think I do.”

  She leaned over and kissed him. His hand slid across her hip to the small of her back, and she broke the kiss.

  “Listen,” she whispered, her forehead against his. “Do you want answers or not?”

  “Maybe this answer first,” he said. “And then we can move on to those other answers.”

  “Men.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, I promise you that—”

  A knock sounded loudly, and Adora jumped.

  “Adora?” Galius’ voice came through the door.

  Grei stared at her, incredulous. “You called the Highblades?” he whispered.

  She shot him an angry glance, mouthed the word, “No!”

  “Who is it?” she said to the door, changing her voice. She tried to sound barely awake, her speech slurred with sleepiness.

  “Galius, my lady,” he said through the door. “Please open the door. It’s been a long night.”

  She cursed softly, turned to Grei and grabbed him by the arm. She put a finger to her lips and shook her head.

  “One moment, my lord.” She yawned loudly. Grei grabbed his clothes, and she pushed him quietly to her washroom and closed the door.

  Adora swallowed hard as the washroom door thumped shut. Her throat was suddenly dry. She couldn’t deal with this right now. By the Faia, Galius was the last person she needed at her door. What was he doing here an hour before dawn? She looked down at herself, dressed for work, clothes wet from travel in the woods. With frantic speed, she undressed, unbuckled the dagger from her leg and kicked the entire bundle under the bed.

  “Adora?” Galius called again.

  She yanked the sheet away from the bed and wrapped it around herself, tried to calm her heart and look sleepy. She went to the door, tousled her hair, then opened it.

  Galius’ handsome face was tired, and her heart twisted at the sight of him. Beyond him, at the base of the stairs, two of his fellow Highblades waited.

  “I apologize for the late hour of my visit,” Galius said. “I meant to come by The Stone earlier, but you would not believe the goose chase I’ve been on tonight.” He glanced at the sheet wrapped around her, and a smile came to his lips. “It is good to see you, though.”

  “And you, my lord,” she said, hating herself. This was the tangle she had meant to avoid. He had been her lover these last three nights. Their relationship was supposed to be simple, a respite, a brief glimpse of what it might be like to be a normal woman.

  But it had all been a horrible mistake, despite what Lyndion and the Order had encouraged. Three nights ago, while Grei was avidly creating his Whisper Prince legend with his different women, Galius Ash came into The Floating Stone for his regular visit, she made up her mind in an instant. She flirted with him shamelessly, hanging on his arm and whispering in his ear, and they drank together. They danced in the center of the tavern while the patrons clapped out a tune. And when the tavern closed down, she took him to her little room and made love to him. He was her first.

  He was everything a lover should be. Gentle. Strong. Skilled. Attentive. Exciting. He wanted her, and he made it known with every touch. It was exhilarating, and for that night, she lost herself in him.

  Galius was the type of man she might have married in another life. He was part of the delegate’s court, a man of standing. An honest man. He loved her.

  And she played the lucky, giddy girl who had snared the most dashing man in Fairmist. In those first glorious, sweaty moments, she could forget about the prophecy. She could even forget about Grei. The second night went much the same.

  But last night, when Galius came to the tavern, the thin walls of her deception were weak and easily broken. One day she would just disappear and that would be the last that Galius ever knew of the mysterious Adora. He didn’t deserve that. And their lovemaking left her cold. Apparently Adora could only play her part so far.

  Now, standing in front of him with an even more elaborate lie on her lips, she was sick at heart, and frightened on top if it. The prophecy was now in motion. She might damage more than just his feelings. She wished she’d never even kissed him.

  “My lord,” she said, feigning sleepiness. “Is it dawn?” She peered at the dark mists.

  “Nearly,” he said. “I apologize for the late call. Truly, I do. But it is the delegate’s business.”

  “What sort of business?”

  “Can you believe we are to search every house in Fairmist before dawn? They were going to send Javack and his surly crew to this area. It was the luck of the Faia I overheard and took the task myself. That cur would have broken down your door and dragged you into the street, just to see you naked.”

  “What are you looking for?” she asked.

  “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

  She desperately needed him to leave, but the unspoken expectation hung heavily over her. She had eagerly given herself to him these past three nights. To suddenly turn cold would arouse his suspicion, and Galius was the suspicious sort.

  She pulled him into a kiss. “I might believe it,” she murmured. “You can be very persuasive.”

  The two Highblades at the base of the stairway cleared their throats and turned away.

  Galius blushed. “May I come in?”

  She only hesitated a moment. “Of course, my lord.” She closed the door behind him and led him to the bed. She must keep herself calm. She had to think her way through this.

  She held his hand. “The delegate has you up all night, searching houses?”

  “For the damned Whisper Prince,” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes, feigning confusion. “The phantom of the masquerades?”

  “The same,” he said, his lips a flat line. “I would be the last to question the delegate’s soundness of mind, but he’s chasing mist. I don’t know what he is thinking.”

  “But the Whisper Prince isn’t real.”

  “The delegate thinks he is. Rumor is this man crept into his daughter’s room, stole her virginity and her jewels. Now we’re searching all of Fairmist for him.”

  “How will you know him? He wears a mask.”

  Galius gave a wry smile. “True. But we have a fair description of him. Not his face, perhaps, but apparently the girl got a look at the rest of him.” He winked. “The boy has three moles across his chest.” He touched each of his collarbones and between them. “That’s what we’re to look for.”

  “That
could take forever,” she said.

  “It’s a fool’s errand. But I’ve already searched dozens of houses tonight. The Faia only know what they’ll have us do tomorrow. But on my rounds,” he smiled. “I saved yours for last.” He touched the side of her cheek.

  Adora’s mind raced. How could she deny him?

  He sensed her reluctance. With a sad smile, he took the decision smoothly out of her hands like the noble man he was. “I know this is horrible, coming here without notice,” he said, shaking his head. “It was not my choice. If you will allow me, I will be about my business and leave you to your rest.” He stood and turned toward the washroom. “I shall be quick.”

  She caught his hand.

  “Don’t be too quick,” she murmured. “I’m awake now.”

  He turned, surprised, and a grin spread across his face.

  Her mind raced. She had to get him out of here. A tryst out-of-doors. An adventure. He would agree to that. She could tell him to send his fellow Highblades home, then take him... Where? The Floating Stone? It would be dark and empty at this hour. Somewhere they could watch the sunrise? Time was running out for her. She needed to get Grei to Fairmist Falls.

  “If I am your last stop on an abysmal night,” she said in a throaty voice. “We must make it a memorable stop.”

  He took her into his arms. She touched the leather tie on his ponytail and pulled it free, setting loose his mass of curly black hair. Her sheet slipped down her back, held up only by their chests pressed together. He kissed her, and Adora prayed that Grei would take the opportunity. There was a tiny window in the washroom, perhaps big enough for him to shimmy through. He could make it, if he thought quickly. If he was silent.

  The scuff of a foot rose from the washroom.

  Galius stopped kissing her, and his head swiveled toward the noise. The washroom door was slightly ajar. Adora thought her heart would stop.

  She took a step back, let the sheet fall to the ground. “Galius—”

  “What was that?” he said. He glanced at her, saw her nakedness, but it did not draw him. His lust had vanished.