Hunter's Legend_A Baylore High Fantasy

by R. J. Vickers

  “Where are we going?” I asked, stepping into my shoes and slipping on my overdress.

  “You need help with those?” Grinning, Hunter tugged at my laces, though this time he was tightening them rather than working them loose. I shrugged and let him work while I combed my hair. I would have to find a few new dresses before long—the neighbors would notice if I never wore anything different.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” I said belatedly.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  How did I guess? “Everything’s a surprise with you.”

  Tying the laces with a flourish, he swooped down and kissed me hard on the mouth. “Would you rather I was boring?”

  Without answering, I followed him down the grand staircase and out to the street.

  It was soon obvious where we were headed. When we reached the central square, Hunter made a beeline for the cathedral, which was less crowded than usual now that everyone was at work. The cathedral was not religious in the slightest, unlike the Whitish structures that had first inspired it; rather, it had been built as a way for the first settlers of Baylore to claim the city as their own. As everyone was taught, cathedrals in Whitland were ostensibly built to honor Varos or the Nine, but in truth, they were constructed by kings and nobles eager to claim ownership of country towns. By constructing their own cathedral, the first Baylore settlers had declared themselves free from the oppressive regime of Whitland.

  It was certainly a striking building. Beside the rambling palace, the cathedral was all tidy lines and sleek white granite. The floor was laid out in a vast diamond, with the entrance cut into the left side. The roof peaked in two high lines, in the shape of a cross, and from the left rose a tower mirroring the shape of the building below. I had only entered the cathedral itself on a few occasions, and though I spent four years living in its shadow, I was still awed by its sheer scale.

  “Have you been up the tower before?” Hunter asked.

  “I thought no one was allowed,” I said.

  He snorted. “Plenty of people climb up there. All you have to do is bribe the guards at the base. They probably earn more each day than most city council members.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “I learned as much the first day I moved into the council blocks.” He looked sideways at me. “I wanted to see what the slums looked like from high in the air.”

  “What did they look like?” I asked, curious in spite of myself.

  “A complete pigsty.” He folded his arms in a manner that was almost protective.

  Walking up to the towering cathedral doors, we were swallowed by the shadow that still hung about the enormous edifice. To my surprise, no guards watched the entrance, though a number of official-looking people lurked in the vast interior. Gazing up once again at the lofty vault, I realized how mistaken I had been in my opinion of our new house. The statue garden was tiny in comparison with the cathedral. Twenty houses of that size would have fit within the cathedral’s granite depths.

  Our footsteps echoed on the stone floor, the sound stretching somberly in the space. Lining most of the walls were high bookshelves; with no other specific purpose in mind, the cathedral had been dedicated to housing the most extensive collection of books anywhere on the continent—perhaps anywhere in the world. Some of the books were public records; others contained royal secrets kept strictly guarded; and still others belonged to a library of sorts which anyone could make use of. Several side doors nestled between bookcases opened onto stairways leading to the basement, where I knew the cathedral caretakers and record-keepers lived. The cathedral often hosted scholars in its basement, people who thirsted for the knowledge housed in its countless books and who loved the challenge of seeking yet more titles to add to the collection.

  Hunter strode toward one of these doorways, located near the widest section of the cathedral. A bushy-bearded man sat just outside the door, leaning far back in his chair and absorbed in a weighty tome; when he saw us approach, he slotted a bookmark into the volume and greeted us with a petulant frown.

  “What are you after, dear friends?”

  Hunter slid a coin-pouch from his sleeve and dropped it on the man’s knee. “Just a brief time without disruption. And more to come, if I can guarantee admittance to the tower on Midsummer’s Day.”

  Pocketing the money without a second glance, the man eyed Hunter with more interest. “Say—I’ve heard tell of a man who plans to jump from the cathedral tower at midsummer. Might that be you?”

  “It might indeed,” Hunter said with a sly smile.

  The man opened his book once again. “If you want the tower empty on Midsummer’s Day, I’ll have to see advance payment.”

  “Done,” Hunter said.

  The man nodded and buried his nose in the book once again, as though he had never been interrupted. I wondered if the other cathedral staff thought poorly of his succumbing to bribery, or if the whole purpose of his job was to earn a bit of extra money for the cathedral itself.

  For a time, the stairs wound their way around a central column, dizzying yet wide enough for an easy climb. There must have been more hollow space between the exterior and the interior walls than I had realized for it to allow such an expansive staircase to unfold within. Then, after what seemed an eternity, the walls began to angle upward. Now the stairs assumed a tighter spiral than before, moving at a steady tilt toward the high point.

  The walls parted to give us a brief glimpse of the diamond floor of the cathedral spread far below, and then we were inside the tower itself. Here the stairs grew steeper than ever, and the spiral hugged a single metal pole leading infinitely upward.

  I had to stop here, clutching the rail, to calm my jangling nerves. It was very dark now, the only light filtering weakly from below, and my sense of balance had been twisted and wrung until I could no longer find it. With a few deep breaths, I resumed climbing. I was so dizzy I thought I might miss a step and go cartwheeling backward. Though I could not be certain in the dim light, I thought Hunter was far ahead of me by now, perhaps even standing atop the tower. Now I was almost dragging myself up, each hand grasping the rail and straining before I trusted my feet to move. If I cried out for help, no one would hear me.

  At last, long after the light from below had faded, a hazy glow began to seep down from the top. My legs ached and my lungs burned, but I kept climbing until a breeze grazed my cheeks. Four steps later, I reached the platform and stood atop the tower.

  The space was larger than it appeared from below. The stairway came out on a diamond-shaped space beneath a peaked roof, ringed by a stone wall that rose to my elbows. Up here, the breeze was stiff—I hugged my arms, chilled.

  “Bit of a climb, eh?” Hunter was grinning.

  “It’s very high,” I said. I tiptoed to the edge and peered out, both hands tight on the stone wall. A fierce wind swept past me, and my head spun. Then I noticed the people moving on the central square below, tiny blots of color, and I had to lean out farther to see. The miniature scene was captivating.

  “You can see all the walls from here,” he said. “Look! There are the city gates. And somewhere over there is our house.”

  I squinted for a while but couldn’t pick out the statue garden. “That’s The Queen’s Bed there.” I pointed at the dark wooden structure just across the square. It was one of the only wooden buildings in the entire city. Aside from the fire hazard, wood was very expensive and difficult to come by. “And the University.” I flushed when I realized why I recognized that so easily. The green courtyard, with its twin rows of towering trees, was unmistakable.

  “It would be so easy to draw a map from here,” Hunter said. “You can see almost every street and every curve of the walls. Bloody Varse—if we were attacked, you could see an approaching army from leagues away!”

  “Who’s getting attacked?” I said wryly. “War is the last thing worrying me at the moment.” I looked again at the scene and swallowed a second bout of dizziness. “
Why, in the name of all that is good, must you jump from here? It’s absolute insanity!”

  “I have to make an impression,” Hunter said. “People will talk about it for years.” He raked his fingers through his hair, which served to accentuate his handsome visage.

  “You can’t do it,” I said grimly. “I will never forgive you for taking such a risk.”

  “Do what you like,” Hunter said. “You won’t stop me.”

  I was instantly defensive. “Do you want to die? Is this some grand, orchestrated suicide?” I would later regret those words a thousandfold.

  “Of course not! But that’s not even the point. The fall is just a distraction, just a means to draw as many people to the scene as possible.”

  “Then what? What is your big scheme? It must be something you’ve planned for years. Why is it so important to you?”

  Hunter made a face at me. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  “But why?” I was determined, so close to the day, to do everything I could to stop him. “Why is it absolutely essential I don’t know? I can give you my one final secret in exchange for the truth. My secret is personal; it doesn’t affect anyone. Does yours?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Must you hide your secret because it will harm someone, and I’ll object? Or because you know I would disapprove of your allies?” I was dangerously close to revealing what I knew about the professor. “Or is it something else entirely?”

  Crossing his arms, Hunter leaned back against the tower wall. “I’m not out to hurt anyone, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” he said. “I want to do something right for a change. But I know you would do anything to stop me if you knew.”

  “You’ve done plenty right,” I said gently. “Even if people don’t notice it beneath all the prophet nonsense. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.”

  “I do have to do this,” he said very quietly. “I have to make amends. Or I’ll never be able to let this go. I’ve never truly been free, all these years. I’ve always been on the run from my mistake.”

  I said no more about it that afternoon. Hunter’s conviction was unshakeable. And what did I know? Perhaps he did have a reason deeper than anything I could guess at.

  The bearded tower-guard gave us an odd look when we emerged, as though he had come to an unpleasant conclusion as to why we had spent so long in the tower. Hunter thanked him again when we left, seemingly oblivious.

  Since it was barely noon, and we still had half a quarter—five days—before midsummer, we ambled down to the Market District once again, this time in search of a decent tailor. Hunter had piles of money concealed about his person, and practically forced it upon the tailor, who agreed to craft six formal dresses for me and a pair of more elaborate, colorful suits for Hunter.

  “You might as well benefit from all this chaos,” Hunter said. “If you decide you’re fed up with me, or find yourself a proper, respectable husband someday, I don’t want you to go around looking like a pauper. You deserve more.”

  I was touched, though I hardly liked the idea of fashionable gowns.

  It was late afternoon by the time we headed home, and my stomach was protesting with hunger. But we were delayed at our doorstep by a young Drifter woman sitting in one of the chairs on the veranda. She was dressed in a subdued but fashionable Baylore style, her deep green dress split at the legs; with her thick black hair and chestnut skin, she was far too attractive for her own good. I saw how she drew Hunter’s eye, and I resented her for it.

  “Can I help you?” Hunter asked by way of greeting.

  The woman raised an eyebrow at him in a manner that was somehow both mocking and seductive. I wished I could learn a few tricks off her. “I have a message to pass along.” She rose and descended the porch steps until she stood directly in front of Hunter. He could have leaned forward and kissed her. “I work for the professor you met with yesterday. He wished to inform you that an unfamiliar girl followed you into the University. She pretended she was invited along for the meeting. She may endanger your plans.”

  I had expected an instant reaction, but Hunter made no show of recognition. “Thank you for passing along the message. I will see if it affects me.” When the woman nodded and stepped aside for us to pass, Hunter paused. “Would you care to join us for dinner someday? My sister and I are new to the neighborhood, and are lacking in our social life.”

  She gave him a swift smile. “Thank you. I may take you up on that offer.”

  Then she whisked past us and vanished beyond the gates.

  For a moment I was fooled into believing Hunter would let me off for this one. But as soon as we were inside, he rounded on me.

  “You interfering idiot!” he shouted. “You could have ruined everything for me! If you think living with me gives you the right to pry into my secret affairs, you can leave. This house is being paid for with my money, not yours. Go back to your parents.”

  “I only did it because I’m worried for you,” I said loudly, rising to his bait. “You’re too arrogant to see it, but some people actually care for you. And they don’t want your stupidity getting you hurt. I’ve let you do whatever you bloody well want all these years, and looked a fool for it, but this has gone too far. That professor is an unpleasant, scheming man, and you shouldn’t have anything to do with him.”

  He grabbed my wrist and hauled me to one of the ornamental silk sitting-room chairs. “How much did you hear?” He towered over me, face reddening.

  “Nothing!” I gripped the arms of the chair, trying not to cower. “I got into the University and wandered around looking for you, but as soon as I found the room you were in, that professor you met with sent me straight back out again.”

  “You’re awful at hiding things,” he growled. “I knew you were up to something yesterday.”

  I looked down. “I’m worried. Do you ever think of me at all? I care for you. Something’s not right. You’ve been acting too serious lately; I know you’re about to do something drastic. And if you were to hurt yourself, I would suffer as well.” I chanced a look at his expression before dropping my gaze once again. “I would never try to harm you, or ruin something you cared about,” I said. “But I can’t shake the feeling something is wrong.”

  Hunter took my chin in one hand, his grip perhaps rougher than he intended. “You have to believe me. I’m taking this risk because it is of the utmost importance. I would not do it otherwise.”

  Though I was still upset, I ducked beneath Hunter’s arm and made for the kitchen. Hunter did not make an appearance all through the time I cooked dinner; I did not want to go after him, so I ate a small bowl of soup and put a lid on the pot before heading to bed. My appetite had been stifled. Pausing at the top of the stairs, I considered sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms for the night, showing Hunter a taste of what it would be like if I truly did leave. I had suspected he felt that way before—that I was a dour nuisance and a burden, incapable of contributing to our funds—but he had never voiced it until now.

  In the end, I chose the usual bedroom. I could not bear the thought of spending a night alone in such a silent, lifeless place.

  “Dinner is downstairs,” I told Hunter. Then I stripped off my overdress and curled up as close to the edge of the bed as possible. Sleep evaded me.

  Much later, long after the city had gone silent, I heard Hunter rise and creep downstairs in search of food. I was secretly pleased.

  Chapter 7

  H unter must have stayed up long into the night. He was still snoring softly when I rose the next morning. In need of some time away to clear my head, I took a scone to eat as I walked and headed down toward my parents’ home. It must have rained in the night, for everything was glistening with water; the streets were washed clean, and the flowers in window-boxes stretched their faces to the climbing sun with more vigor than before. Even the streets smelled fresh, the cobblestones giving off a dusty, comfortable fragrance. This was something I had missed about Baylore—rain in the countryside was drea
ry and stifling, but in the city it meant cozy cafes and shops with lanterns beckoning through the gloom.

  I knew the conversation with my parents would be uncomfortable, but I could not avoid it. I had promised to drop by, and besides, I owed their friend thanks for procuring Lieman’s help. While I was at it, I could also ask where Lieman lived—if Hunter genuinely planned to host a dinner party, he would make an excellent guest.

  It was comforting to wend my way down Market Street, surrounded by others going about their business, none of whom found me worthy of notice. Sometimes losing oneself in a crowd was the best way to escape. Most passers-by were just heading to work, and many, like me, were scarfing down breakfast on the run. These were the city councilors, the bakery assistants and seamstresses, and the city guards—people who did not own businesses connected to their homes. Elsewhere in the Market District, windows were beginning to open, wares were appearing on outdoor displays, and sweet smells were curling low along the damp ground. I took time to notice these smaller details, deliberately blocking thoughts of Hunter. By the time I reached my parents’ street, I felt much calmer than before.

  Both of my parents came to greet me at the shop door when I knocked; they had been arranging a new display of miniatures on a rich blue quilt, it transpired, while their neighbors set the shop to rights. They were surprised to see me, oddly enough. After being absent for so long, I suppose I couldn’t blame them for doubting my intentions to pay them a visit.

  “Cady!” my father said. “I was afraid we wouldn’t see you again.”

  I clasped his hand. “I won’t vanish on you again, I promise. If I leave Baylore again, you will be the first to know.”

  A ceramic teacup still in hand, my mother stepped up to my father’s side and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Why all the secrecy, then? Must you still hide everything from us?” She was trying, I could tell, but her tone was still stiff.

  Sighing, I released my father’s hand. “If I could tell you, I would. But I still don’t know the half of it myself.”