by AC Cobble
Peering into the dark warehouse, he couldn’t see much, but saw there was a second floor to the place.
He sheathed his knife then wiggled into the open window. He promptly fell half a man height down to a dusty wooden floor. He froze, worried the thump of his fall would alert someone.
Nothing happened.
Amelie came in after him and he helped her down more gracefully.
They were in between two head-high rows of nondescript ceramic jars. Ahead of them, Ben could see the second floor ended in a loft. Down below, on the main floor, there was the flicker of light.
He met Amelie’s eyes and held a finger to his lips. She nodded then followed Ben as he crawled forward, inching along the dusty board floor, and prioritizing silence over speed.
Glancing over the ledge of the loft, he saw Meghan in the middle of the floor. She was still in her crimson cloak and was facing an armed man. The man had three more companions seated at a table behind him. It looked like they had all been playing cards and drinking. The men wore no identifying marks, but Ben was certain who they were, Sanctuary men.
“What do you mean you haven’t seen them!” demanded the man.
Ben pulled back so he could no longer see the people below. He could still hear.
“I think I was clear. I haven’t seen them,” retorted Meghan angrily. “I’ve checked every inn in this damn town. They aren’t staying at any of them. They must be staying in the keep. It’s the only other option. We can’t take them in that place, so the best chance is to draw them here. I’m not sure how else I can explain that to you, captain.”
Ben and Amelie looked at each other. They’d been certain it was her, but hearing her voice after so long brought everything that happened in the Sanctuary crashing back. The last time they heard that voice was minutes before she betrayed them.
“I’m sick of this waiting,” snarled the man. “How can you have not seen them! How can they have not seen you!” His heavy boots thumped on the stone floor of the warehouse. He sounded like he was pacing back and forth. “If you were in the square all day like you said, then I am absolutely sure you would have seen them, or they would have seen you. I’m starting to doubt your loyalty.”
“No one would have even known they left if it wasn’t for me, captain,” retorted Meghan sharply. “And don’t think you can threaten me by casting dispersions about my loyalty. The mages know what I did and where my allegiance lies. I don’t really give a damn about what you think. Until a mage tells me differently to my face, we’re doing this my way. I don’t want Initiate Amelie, I want all of them. We do it my way, we take them all at once. You heard the same orders I did. I’ve had just about enough of your shit.”
Ben lay on his back, listening. Involuntarily, his hand gripped his longsword. Hearing his sister say in her own words that she betrayed him was almost too much.
The captain snorted. “Whatever. I’m done playing these games. If you are as loyal as you say you are, then I can only assume you are incompetent. Either way, I’ll let the mage deal with you.”
“There’s no mage here…” Meghan stopped.
Ben and Amelie exchanged a silent look. Both, curious, rose up slowly to peer back down over the edge.
A new woman was standing in the torchlight. She was dressed finely and had a jewel-pommeled belt knife hanging on her side. She had to be the mage.
“I-I…” Meghan stuttered. “What are you doing here?”
“How do you think we knew to come to Northport?” chided the guard captain. “Ignorant girl. You think we just happened to choose this city? We’ve been following the mage’s instructions this entire time. We brought you to help finish this without having to expend her. She is not pleased with your ineffectiveness.”
“But my plan will work!” objected Meghan. “We heard there was magic used during the battle. Certainly they are here. I just need more time to find them.”
The woman, the mage, stared back at Meghan then tilted her head. Ben’s breath caught. The woman’s face was brilliant white, porcelain white. Her lips were painted blood red, her checks blushed, and perfect black eyebrows arched over stark, dark holes. She was wearing a mask, he realized, a porcelain mask. The rest of her head was covered by a dark hood.
Unspeaking, the woman circled Meghan, tracing a finger across the back of her bright crimson cloak.
“I thought you were…” Meghan swallowed visibly. The taint of fear laced her voice. “I thought you were going to Whitehall when you recovered.”
The woman didn’t answer. She gripped Meghan’s chin and turned her head to look into her eyes. Briefly, she held the look then released Meghan. Meghan’s hand shot up and rubbed where the woman’s fingers had pressed into her flesh.
The porcelain-faced woman nodded to the captain. The man grimaced and yanked out his belt knife.
Meghan’s eyes popped wide open. She shouted, “No!”
It was too late. The captain took two quick strides forward and plunged his dagger into Meghan’s side. Again and again, he punched his knife into her. Blood soaked her dress. Ben watched in horror as his sister slumped in the captain’s arms. His feelings toward Meghan were complicated with her betrayal, but some part of him always hoped they had been mistaken.
Whatever her crimes, he certainly didn’t want to see her stabbed to death in front of him. He remembered when he was just a little boy and she was the one person in Alistair’s house who was kind to him. A sick feeling coursed through his body. He shut his eyes.
Amelie elicited a tiny whimper and the porcelain-faced woman turned upward. She stared into the darkness where Ben and Amelie lay motionless. They were frozen, scared to breathe.
The soldiers, noticing the mage’s look, stood at the table and gripped their weapons while the captain dropped Meghan’s body to the stone floor. He stepped delicately back from the growing pool of blood that surrounded her.
He looked at the woman.
She returned his look and made a sharp gesture with her hand.
To his men, the captain barked, “Prepare the bowl for a seeking. We should have enough material for one more. The mage will confirm where exactly Initiate Amelie is and we will go and finish this.”
He paused, also scanning the darkness above. “Before we leave, search this place from top to bottom. Make sure we don’t have any lurking rats.”
The porcelain-faced woman sat at the soldier’s table while they bustled about. She stared silently at the scattered food and drink they’d left beside their cards.
While the men were banging and rustling around pulling out supplies, Ben and Amelie slithered backward very carefully. Ben hoped the sounds the soldiers made would cover any inadvertent scuffs. Staying still wasn’t an option. If the men searched upstairs, there was nowhere to hide. If the mage could magically locate them, Ben wanted to make damn sure they weren’t sitting in the same building.
After a nervous minute, they were standing back at the window. Ben hoisted Amelie out then crawled after. Every fiber in his body was screaming at him to hurry.
On the boxes outside, he looked back at the slatted-wooden window and thought about closing it. Surely the soldiers would suspect someone had been there if he did not, but the risk of a squeak or creak was too great. The soldiers would know someone had been there, but they wouldn’t know who.
Scampering down the boxes, Ben winced at each little sound they made. Luckily, the men inside didn’t hear anything.
Once on the ground, he and Amelie set out at a fast jog.
Between breaths, he asked, “What is a seeking?”
“I don’t know, but I can guess,” she replied.
He picked up the pace and they sped around startled strangers who, still nervous from the demons, watched them pass into the darkness.
It was full night and the streets were sparsely lit. Ben knew they were leaving an easy to follow trail for anyone who had the inclination, but if this mage could seek them out somehow, it was pointless to try hiding.
Both of them knew without needing to say it—they had to find Towaal. Quickly.
Darting across the square, they headed to the darkened library building.
At Towaal’s request, new guards had finally been posted there. The two men tried to move to block the door. Ben and Amelie flashed past them.
“Thanks. We know where we’re going,” he shouted as they blew by.
The men stood, startled.
Careening through the stacks and bashing into walls in the pitch-black building, Ben and Amelie burst down the narrow hall into the Librarian’s private room. The Librarian’s former room, Towaal had claimed it as her own.
She owlishly glanced up at them from a notebook, a single lamp lighting the small space.
Panting, Ben and Amelie both started talking at once.
Towaal held up a hand and frowned, clearly sensing their panic but obviously not understanding a thing they said.
Ben glanced at Amelie and nodded for her to tell it.
“We found Meghan, or maybe she found us,” she began, “but she’s dead. Killed by Sanctuary soldiers and…and a mage. A woman wearing a white porcelain mask.”
“You’re certain she’s a mage?” asked Towaal, jumping to her feet.
“She must be,” assured Amelie. “They spoke about her doing a seeking. The captain said she would be able to find me. Do you know what a seeking is?”
“I have not heard of a seeking,” said Towaal, shaking her head, “but we should assume what you heard is correct, they will be able to find you. We’ve known this day would come.”
Amelie nodded, still catching her breath.
Towaal darted around the room, gathering up documents and books.
While she worked, she barked out, “Why did they kill Meghan?”
“Meghan was supposed to be bait in a trap for us, I think,” answered Ben. “They were upset she hadn’t found us yet.”
“Describe this woman’s mask?” she asked next.
Ben did, detailing the creepiness of it. He then asked Towaal, “Who is she?”
The mage shrugged. “I am not aware of any mages at the Sanctuary who wear a mask of any type, much less the porcelain one you describe.”
Snatching up a final book, she queried, “You said the soldiers were getting supplies for this seeking. What did they get?”
“We were sneaking away,” said Amelie, “but before we lost sight, I saw a bowl, a small wooden box, a golden dagger…”
“And a red-colored vial,” finished Ben, frowning.
“Oh, shit,” muttered Amelie.
“What?” demanded Towaal.
“The vial,” Amelie quaked. “It could have been blood.”
“And?” replied Towaal curtly.
“Mistress Eldred had my blood. Could she have tracked me here with it?” asked Amelie.
“It’s possible,” allowed Towaal, a grim expression stealing across her face. “There is a theory that has floated around through the years…It doesn’t matter. They tracked you somehow. We need to go. We need to get Rhys.”
“Rhys—” started Ben.
“I know what his sword did to him,” interrupted Towaal brusquely. “That is unfortunate, but the man must fight. On one hand, I can count the number of men in Alcott better than him with a blade. That’s not counting his other abilities. If Eldred is here, we need him.”
Ben gulped.
Towaal was finished packing and bustled out of the door. Ben and Amelie followed closely behind.
The guards had moved into the building, following Ben and Amelie. They stared in surprise as the trio rushed back out. The guards made no move to stop them.
Barreling across the square, Amelie asked Towaal, “Is Eldred dangerous? Can the two of us not face her?”
Towaal shouted over her shoulder, “She is very dangerous. She is very strong. Her knowledge of battle magic is undisputed. She has an, ah, affinity for causing pain and damage. I think that’s why she spent so much time with the initiates. I do not care to face her.”
Fifty strides from the keep, a raspy voice sounded in Ben’s head, “Where are you running to, Karina?”
Towaal froze. She then pivoted on one heel to face the porcelain-faced mage.
Ben struggled to determine if he’d heard the voice or thought it.
“Eldred,” Towaal stated flatly. It wasn’t a question, but the porcelain mask bobbed in acknowledgement.
Eldred’s voice, like a snake moving across a dry rock, sounded again. It was like a hollow echo inside Ben’s skull. “Tsk, tsk. You know the Veil is looking for these two.”
Ben watched warily. Behind Eldred, a dozen armed Sanctuary guards fanned out. He worried more about the mage. Something wasn’t right with the masked woman, and after watching Meghan get murdered, he didn’t think she had any intention of taking them alive.
Towaal didn’t answer Eldred. Instead, she slipped a hand inside her pack and drew out an ancient, palm-sized copper disc and a black book with a purple emblem embossed on the cover.
Eldred’s head turned to follow the motion as Towaal passed Amelie the book and showed her the copper disc. “You see this. You understand why I am showing you?”
Amelie nodded.
“What is that?” sounded the voice in Ben’s head. “What have you found? It feels foreign to me, old. Did you find something special up here near the Wilds? It doesn’t feel like a weapon or a repository of power,” declared the voice with a note of triumph. “What do you hope to do with it?”
Obviously sensing something was off, the pedestrians in the square were starting to disappear. They didn’t know who the two women were or why the armed men were intently gripping their weapons. After the demon attack, no one needed to know. They didn’t want trouble.
Ben eyed the walls of the keep. This far away, he wasn’t sure if Rhymer’s soldiers could tell what was happening.
Towaal responded, “You are correct, this is very old. It was created long before our time, before the Veil’s time.”
Eldred titled her head, listening. The porcelain mask stared at them, giving away no hint of what she was thinking.
Towaal took a deep breath then asked, “Would you like me to show you what it does?”
A flash and an awful ripping sound split the night air and a shimmering light flashed into view. A bestial shriek filled the square.
A dark shape shot out and one of Sanctuary guards went down, screaming.
Without looking back at them, Towaal shouted, “Run!”
Ben swept out his longsword and Amelie’s gaze bored into her former teacher.
Eldred stared confused at the fallen guard and the black shape that was attacking him.
“Do not be stupid. There is something wrong here. I am sensing an unnatural power in that woman. Something dark and terrible. I can try to delay her and I have an idea to save myself, but not if I am protecting you as well,” growled Towaal. “Run, and do not look back!”
Two more small creatures materialized in the square and leapt forward. The Sanctuary guards slashed and hacked at the little demons. Red and purple blood sprayed from torn flesh as the melee raged.
“What have you done! How did you do that?” demanded Eldred, the painful scrape of her voice screeched across Ben’s conscious like nails on slate.
He and Amelie ran.
An explosion ripped behind them but neither spared a glance back. At a full sprint, they charged down a street and Ben steered them toward the southern gate, exactly where Eldred would expect them to go. With the ruckus in the square, he didn’t think she’d be following immediately.
Cracks and booms rocked the city as the battle escalated. They could hear the roar of the demons. It sounded like a lot of them. Within heartbeats, shouts and alarm bells went off as Rhymer’s worn-down military was called to action once again.
At the gate, the guards were milling about in confusion, clearly unsure if they should be keeping demons out or keeping people in.
Ben helped them.
<
br /> “Demons in the square,” he yelled as they approached. “Dozens of them. All swords to the square!”
The sergeant in command listened for a heartbeat. The sounds of battle confirmed what Ben told him. With a wave of his hand, his men left their posts and ran to face the threat.
Unmolested, Ben and Amelie slipped out the gate and raced into the darkness. A thin sliver of moonlight lit the way.
They made it to the forest surrounding Northport. Trees enveloped them like a comforting blanket. Ben didn’t fear what was in the dark, he feared the white porcelain face behind them.
They kept running until a quarter league into the forest a razor sharp pain stabbed into his skull. He stumbled forward onto his hands and knees. It pulsated down his body in waves, wracking him with violent shudders.
Slowly, the pain subsided. He saw Amelie lying beside him panting and gripping her head. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut.
“The Rift,” he mumbled. “It’s like when we destroyed the Rift, but smaller.”
Amelie scrunched up on her elbows and knees, whimpering softly.
“Maybe that means Eldred is dead. Maybe that means…” she choked, her thought left unfinished.
A thunderous boom shook the ground. Ben looked back and saw a violent plume of fire light the sky from Northport.
“She’s not dead yet,” he responded.
Amelie staggered to her feet. Through gritted teeth, she groaned, “We need to keep moving.”
Motivated by terror, Ben and Amelie ran through the night. The thin, winter bare branches soared above their heads, letting in the cool light of the moon.
They had their weapons, two water skins, and the clothes on their backs. That was it. There was no food, but even if they had some, they wouldn’t have taken time to stop and eat it.
“Do you think Towaal…” started Ben.
“I don’t know,” gasped Amelie. “Maybe.”
Alive or dead, Ben didn’t know which one he was asking.
By the time the sun peeked above the horizon, they were stumbling forward, exhausted. Ben could barely keep one foot in front of the other. No matter how frightened they were by Eldred, he knew they would have to rest.