The Truth about Heroes: Complete Trilogy (Heroes Trilogy)

by Krista Gossett

  The boys had traveled all over Vieres together but there was one spot that they always steered clear of and Dinsch was never sure why. For years they had gotten to know Vieres like the backs of their hands but Krose had always insisted on not going that way. They would always loop wide around that spot until Dinsch’s curiosity was killing him and he had to know.

  Krose had kicked himself for not telling his friend what was there, but he didn’t want his friend to plot some fool’s mission either. Dinsch had sped off for Scryshaw Caverns and Krose didn’t know until the innkeeper had told him in the morning. He could have strangled the innkeeper for not telling Dinsch what he was getting himself into but the innkeeper pleaded and swore he had tried to tell him but the Bryfolk was out the door before he could say more than three words.

  When Dinsch didn’t return that day or the next, Krose knew that his friend had been taken and left the roadside inn and headed north to Neibelung to write a note to Seije. Seije, his brother, was always unfailingly in Merschenez Castle or the Ersenais Kingdom. He needed urgent help to rescue his friend from Scryshaw and added that, quite frankly, they should have shut down that slave trade years ago.

  Seije patiently explained that if Krose had been reading any of his letters, he would know that they had shut those Caverns down many times over the years but they could ill afford to keep it guarded from new tenants of black market trades. He then told his brother that the King’s Commander’s own daughter was getting married in a short time and there would be no free hands to send until the festivities were over.

  Those days had been miserable for Krose and Dinsch both— Dinsch and the Bryfolk around him were cruelly treated and sometimes they would snatch up one of the young boys and he would not be returned; they swore they could smell cooking flesh at night and it did not take much imagination to figure out what those horrid giants were eating. Sometimes the giants would take a female and several of them would rape her. The Bryfolk would do their best to shield their children from those horrors, but so often they would leave the girl they chose naked and dead or dying until they would carry the body off for another of their morbid feasts. They did not often carry out those sick rituals for there was more money to be had in selling them as slaves, but they needed the Bryfolk to stay scared enough to not try anything stupid and some of the Bryfolk were weak and unsuitable for slavery. Dinsch had been terrified, but he still had the presence of mind to ask about Seles; he said they would know her by the fact her tail was missing, but none could say they saw her.

  When Krose had finally come for him, he had brought the lovely Rienna, a Valkyrie in Dinsch’s eyes and he had watched her slice through those ogres like a goddess painting the skies during creation. The other Bryfolk had watched in amazement and they had needed little convincing to follow her to salvation. The melancholy warrior girl had moved him, nearly sacrificing her life for people who she only just met and he had risked his own life to save her from the short-fused explosives. The other Bryfolk had been anxious to return to their homes after their standoff with the traders, and maybe Dinsch had wanted to do so too at first; but the hard-faced, grief-ridden girl had left a mark on his heart and he knew he would follow her to Hell. Without saying a word, he could see the resolution in Krose’s face as well.

  Hell and beyond, as it turned out, for crossing an ocean was an experience he was loathe to repeat. After all these years, he never expected to see her face and wondered if the magic of gods was cruel enough to trick his eyes with old wounds. He ran as if his life depended on it and even bounded off the walls when crowds blocked his pursuit. As he suspected, he did lose sight of her and started to ask if the others knew about her. She didn’t have any more boots to drop. He did not bother using her name because he doubted she would be using it anymore. He did his best to calm himself because he frightened off a few people with his frantic excitement. Once he calmed, a cheerful elderly woman pointed out a strange rabbit-girl was the wife of a noble who “lived in that mansion over yonder.”

  Dinsch followed her pointed finger to a manor so vast, it was very nearly a castle. He felt intimidated by the vastness of the place, but he told himself it was no less huge than the burrow they had lived in and was hardly going to be as impressive underground if there even was an underground in there. The place was not heavily guarded—this was a laid-back almost idyllic part of the city (was Dinsch ever glad Night hadn’t gotten to it) and people barely looked twice at him. He suspected that either Seles was a public figure or there were other Bryfolk. Even in Vieres where Bryfolk were abundant, there were still pockets where people let their jaws hang open in disbelief. Some were even bold enough to pet him.

  He had entered the massive open-air chamber of the entrance, his eyes taking in the luxury of the place and when the breeze blew, he inhaled so deeply, his chest swelled and dropped greatly with the pleasure of it. When he opened his eyes, he saw the one that looked like Seles watching him tentatively around a marble column and it looked as if she made to run again.

  “Wait, please!” Dinsch had begged, his voice soft as if he were comforting a child. The woman watched but tensed as if to run again. He approached her slowly, a feat for Dinsch to be sure. He neared her and she took down her hood so she could better see his face and he could see hers. She held up her hands as he neared and he knew not to come any closer.

  “S…Seles? Is… your tail missing?” Dinsch asked, not knowing what else to say. People could look alike, but he doubted there were two girls that looked like her with missing tails.

  She seemed shocked but hid it quickly, bringing up her shoulders like a proper lady. She watched him longer as if deciding something crucial.

  “I don’t go by that name. My name is Aeryse. Tell me yours,” she said, not giving anything away. “It’s me, Dinsch,” he posited weakly, wondering if he was mistaken. She looked so much like Seles… He hoped this wasn’t some cruel trap.

  Her eyes grew misty with tears and she turned her back to him and dropped her cloak. She was naked underneath and he could see the wicked scar where her tail was. Dinsch stepped forward to touch the scarring and his head clouded, his heart overflowing as his blood surged. Next thing, he knew he was dropping his loincloth and Seles was bracing herself on the column as he pushed his stiff cock into her from behind. Always a feeling like he was home. They literally fucked like rabbits and it was over quickly, but their breaths came in great ragged gulps from the force of their fervor. He pulled her back up, along his own body, to confirm that feeling of how she fit him and he released her again when she gently pulled his arms away. Seles looked around and had pulled her cloak back up quickly.

  “Dinsch, you cannot stay here. I am married now and my husband would not be happy to share me. He has been good to me and I cannot hurt him. Please,” Seles had begged, picking up his loincloth. He slipped it back on and smiled longingly. The situation was not unusual or awkward; up until she left, their encounters had always been intense and sexual and little else.

  “Talk to an old friend for a while? I still have a couple hours before I have to meet up with my friends,” Dinsch asked, raising up his hands to show his passions were cooled and he respected her decision. He would have taken her every way possible if she had allowed it, but he would take her any way she would have him, just to spend another second with her.

  Seles had nodded; they had a lot to talk about. Seles seemed hesitant on where to begin so Dinsch started first, leaving out a lot of the details of what brought his friends here. He wished he could tell her everything, but he remembered Melchior’s warning on what they revealed to anyone in this city. As much as he wanted to trust Seles, it was clear that her husband whom she was loyal to had no small power in this city and there was no telling how far his influence really spread. She had been surprised and moved that he had missed her so much and had warmed up to the idea of telling her story.

  All those years before when he had disappeared, she had been tired of being cooped up in the library all
day and was longing for sunlight. Against the instructor’s wishes, she insisted she go alone. She got to thinking of how little she really saw of the world outside a few illustrations and photos in books and her feet just seemed to carry her off and before she knew it, she was well on the edges of the gathering fields, where wild boars posed a threat as they grazed on some of the sweet grasses there. She had made to turn back when a giant had grabbed her around her neck so that she couldn’t scream and tried to tie her up. She had a dagger in her scholar’s robe and made to use it, but the giant had caught her movements and snatched it from her hands, cutting off her tail and holding the blade to her ear, warning it would be the next to go if she caused him any more trouble.

  The terror and blood loss had made her weak and it wasn’t long before she had fainted. Seles had been terrified that she would be sent off to Scryshaw Caverns; Seles had admitted that she was never allowed to mention that horror to the other Bryfolk and it had haunted her dreams at night. The giant let her blood drip on the ground and had slaughtered a great boar to eat later and provide enough blood for her own brainless kin to write her off as dead. They would be able to smell that it wasn’t all her blood but not tell if she lost too much in all that mess. The giant who had taken her had not intended to split the take on her profit though and headed to Xanias instead to find some wealthy foreign pervert to peddle her off to. He had cursed himself for cutting off her tail because that was a deal breaker for some of them—some would want to pull on that little tail while they released themselves in her.

  Seles thought that she was surely going to end up in the giant’s belly as dessert until a handsome politician from Nemiah (later to be her husband—a man named Axius Caros) had stepped forward to buy her, at a discount the giant had been unhappy to give but would mean a few days of meals and whores rather the one scrawny meal eating her would leave him.

  Seles had been a wreck on the ship and wouldn’t speak at all; she was so sick and terrified. Lord Caros had been kind to her and did not show an interest in taking her as lover, which also made her terrified, that he would tire of her and give her to a crueler master. To Lord Caros though, a 12-year-old was still a child and it was not until she was 16 that he had taken her to his bed, and by then it was as his wife.

  Dinsch had listened attentively and drew a little comfort from having his hopes that she still lived confirmed. He hadn’t exactly pined for her, but she was his first love and would always be precious to him. Knowing she was alive but married, was a door opening and closing, not shut but too far to step through again. Seles was happy here and it gave him some comfort to know that.

  When Seles had finished her tale, a richly dressed man approached them and had laid a kiss on her cheek, wary of Dinsch but smiling welcomingly.

  “Aeryse, you didn’t tell me you had a guest,” the man who was obviously Lord Caros mentioned lightly. His tone was conversational, but he kept his hand on her hip possessively and made certain Dinsch got the hint.

  “He saw me in the plaza and followed me here. This is Dinsch, an old friend I grew up with at the Bryfolk Hole in Vieres. Dinsch, this is my husband, Lord Axius Caros,” Seles/ Aeryse offered politely.

  Dinsch and Lord Caros both dipped their heads in greeting and Dinsch could tell from Seles’ polite distance and the sun creeping towards the horizon that it was time to say his goodbyes.

  He took Seles’ hand and placed a light kiss on it and nodded again at Lord Caros, his eyes gently warning the man he had better protect her with his own life as Dinsch would.

  “I must say my goodbyes and regret that I may not be passing this way again so I wish you both well,” Dinsch stated with all the pomp he could manage. “It was… great to see you again after all this time, S… Aeryse.”

  Dinsch had started to walk away but Lord Caros spoke up. “I have to wonder what a Bryfolk from Vieres is doing in Nemiah. Your kind isn’t keen on oceans,” he stated, kissing Seles’ hand fondly.

  He could wonder all the fuck he wanted and it would yield no fruit, Dinsch thought crabbily. Dinsch wanted to shoot back that it was none of his damned business, but he turned with an easy grin on his face.

  “We don’t always get to choose where we end up in life,” he said with an innocence he didn’t feel. Let him chew on that for a while. Dinsch will never buy his wife scared and helpless from a shady giant at a salty port, that’s for sure.

  When Dinsch met up with his friends on the Silver Plaza, he could see the questions in their eyes (except for Pierait, who wasn’t fond of asking or answering and certainly had no interest in what Dinsch was doing since it hardly led to finding a soul). He did not yet offer any explanation and the group had decided to stay at a close-by inn called the Seven Sisters. It was Krose that had been unable to wait and had approached Dinsch who had taken up a spot on the roof, gazing at the manor he had spent his afternoon at.

  “I saw her today, Krose. She was even more beautiful than I had remembered,” Dinsch said, far away in his thoughts.

  Krose was confused at first but then his eyes widened.

  “Her… You mean Seles?! You found her?!” Krose asked, excited for his friend, sobering when he could see the faraway look in Dinsch’s eyes.

  Dinsch nodded and smiled peacefully.

  “She’s married now but she’s happy. Her separation from the Bryfolk was terrifying but she got really lucky and has had a good life,” Dinsch said, looking at his friend as a tear escaped.

  Krose wrapped his arm around Dinsch’s shoulder and let his friend weep. Krose knew better than anyone that Dinsch had always had a soft spot for that girl and this was not how he had hoped they’d be reunited. Even if Seles had not been married, Dinsch would never leave Rienna nor take Seles towards unknown danger, but still… Hope springs eternal.

  When they gathered in the morning, slowly and languorously from the luxuries they had allowed themselves, it was Ashe that decided to fill Dinsch in on where they were going next. It had been decided that it was time to head southeast—Melchior admitted that the spot he had chosen was that way—it would be a long way, nearly three times the length of their journey so far but they had learned enough to know that Night had hit Yasha, the northernmost port of Stoneweld, but not Vereshod to the west, so it seemed he was heading down the middle of the continent. They had been uneasy, thinking that Night might have been headed for Myceum and not to destroy it. Melchior had also explained that many of his spies were from Vereshod although he feared the worst, not having heard from them since he had met them in Xanias. They would not have traveled the main routes so he didn’t fear that they had been caught up by Night, but he did wonder if Myceum’s spiders had caught his birds in their web. They knew how to find Melchior and they should have met up with him no later than last night. Melchior decided they should continue; the spies would know his route and they could move faster than a handful of people with a tendency to make some rather eventful side stops.

  He was awfully efficient for a man with fresh hickeys on his neck. Or maybe because of it. Men always seemed more focused after sex. Rienna sure as hell wasn’t.

  Before they left, they stocked up on necessary supplies; thick blankets, preserved foods, bows and arrows for hunting, cooking supplies—only the most necessary and useful as they had to lug these supplies on their backs. Money was never an issue—Sea Star had given Rienna a pouch full of pearls and to her wonder, she realized they had replenished later. She had summoned Sea Star to ask if they simply returned to her but she assured Rienna that they just magically replenished. Rienna didn’t want to offend Sea Star but she wasn’t certain that magic wasn’t just lifted, leaving the vendors with handfuls of worthless pebbles either. She had her hands full just being suspicious of Melchior and his all too convenient networks. Still, she assuaged her conscience by selling pearls to the shadiest vendors so she would have coin to give the more honest ones.

  On the way out of the city, Krose had asked, “Who here is actually good with a bow and arrow?”
Laughter had followed a pregnant pause and Krose threw the bow and arrows to the ground. He had mean accuracy with daggers anyway so it would do. His daggers always returned to him besides.

  Melchior gathered the bow and arrows up and added them to his load. Better safe than sorry. It was easy enough figuring out where to go, easy enough that Krose seemed to have some reservations about just how well-used these roads were and if they perhaps ought to be hanging down some back roads. Melchior had laughed harshly at that. Although they were traveling outside of the line of the Eastern Cyryl Desert, it was still a dusty and dry strip and their voices grew hoarse over the days, their food supplies harder to replenish. Melchior assured them that this was the best way to travel and also explained there was a landmark he was looking for where they would head back out for the greener shorelines to a small but prosperous village before making a dangerous trek through Uzhuak Forest. It was either that forest or the unforgiving desert for no ships would be so foolish as to round the razor-sharp shelf of rock that stretched far out from the shores of the forest. He also had to explain to Krose that the roads were always welltravelled for a reason. Some of the flora as they travelled this way was as ravenous as any predator and had an alarming strike range. Once you were close enough to see one wake, it could reach nearly 100 feet in less than a second to snap up its prey. They released a chemical that could dissolve a man into slush just as quickly. He saw it happen to his horse and there was no doubting that the image haunted him still.

  The “landmark” that Melchior had anticipated (an odd orange rock shaped like an egg) was not the only thing that waited there and the group made small movements to ready their weapons. A band of eight men in marked armor stood there humorlessly, being less discreet about drawing their weapons. Melchior tensed but from the corner of his mouth, he quietly told them, “Let me do the talking. Mycean armor. We don’t know what they want yet so don’t jump to conclusions.”