by Casey Odell
“I was once called that, but not anymore,” the man said, dropping Farron’s dagger to the ground. “My name is Bahkar now.” He turned back to Claire and grinned. “Remember it, for you haven’t seen the last of me. I will be keeping an eye on you, my flower.”
And with that, Bahkar, the madman, disappeared into the darkness from which he came, his laughter following Claire as she fell deep into hers.
Claire woke with a start, the echo of the madman’s laughter still ringing in her ears. She sat up quickly and looked around, her head spinning. He wasn’t here. The camp remained silent. The fire crackled next to her. Half of the men were asleep, the other half standing watch. She took a few breaths to ease her heartbeat. She was still alive, still in one piece. And by the look of it, she’d only been out for a few hours, the camp recognizable from before.
She looked around for Farron, to see if he was alright, but caught the captain’s eye first. And it wasn’t too happy. With a scowl, Captain Bahadur marched toward her. Claire stood, her heart rate climbing again, and prepared herself. The man was looking for a confrontation, and she was the target.
“You,” Hamza said, his voice a low growl. He stopped a few feet in front of her, his height imposing, and glared down at her with his one good eye. “What are you?”
Movement caught her eye from across the camp. She glanced over to find Farron, alive and mostly well, standing at the ready. A bandage crossed over his bare chest. He watched the captain cautiously.
Claire turned back to the captain and squared her shoulders. She’d been hoping to avoid such a situation. But it was here and it was standing in front of her, almost spouting fumes. “Do you really want to know, or do you just want to take your anger out on me?” She knew she shouldn’t have prodded the man, but there was no need for him to be so angry. She was just as scared and confused as he was. No, even more so. “In any case, it’s best if you don’t know.”
He bristled more at her last comment than the first. “I think it’s my job to know, seeing as how I am risking my life as well as my men’s, even more than I’d realized. The Council never said anything about any of this.” He motioned to her and in Farron’s direction. “Or about mad soldiers coming back from the dead to attack us. Me and my boys are not equipped for this. If I’d have known, I would have never agreed to this little mission.”
“Well, I never asked you to come along with me either.” Claire crossed her arms. “If you have a problem, take it up with the king and Council. And it seems to me you know more about our mystery man than I do.”
The captain tensed, his anger dissipating into confusion. “I thought he died years ago. Briol Daore was his name. He used to serve in the King’s Guard back when his father, King Earnehard, ruled.” He nodded his head in Farron’s direction. “I heard he went mad and jumped off a balcony. His body was never found, though. We all just assumed he was dead.” A slight shiver ran through the big man, his eye seeing shadows of the past.
“Well, your friend seems alive enough to me, and quite mad indeed.” She uncrossed her arms and let them fall to her sides. Exhaustion hit her all at once. “It would be for the best, for both you and your men, to forget what you have seen here tonight,” she said, the anger easing from her as well. “Or else you’ll all have your tongues cut out.”
Captain Bahadur wasn’t amused by that, not that she had expected him to be. “Fine,” he acquiesced, though he didn’t look happy about it. “If it’s serious enough to have him here,” he nodded in Farron’s direction again, “then I will agree to keep me and my boys’ mouths shut. But if there is anything, and I mean anything, no matter how outlandish it may seem, that may endanger me or my men again that you know about, you tell me. You hear?”
Claire gulped and cast an uneasy glance at Farron. Something like that could take her all night to explain. Which, in the end, was fine. She didn’t think she could fall asleep again for the next week. Not with one more pair of eyes watching her every move. Especially ones that belonged to someone so… unstable.
The nightmares had started again. Only this time she didn’t know whether it was due to the mysterious madman or the mark— or if it even mattered. The past few nights had been filled with maniacal laughter, red feline-like eyes in the dark, walls of fire, and centaur attacks. The man had dredged up memories of her past that she’d tried to keep buried for her own sanity. The walls were breaking down and it seemed not even the necklace could help anymore.
Her eyes stung in the afternoon light. It was all she could do to keep herself awake during the day. However, at night, it was just as much of a struggle to fall asleep. The fear kept her awake. Not just because of the nightmares, but what the nightmares represented: that the mark was spreading, her magic slowly taking over, eating her up from the inside, and there was nothing she could do about it. The necklace was only a bandage, not a cure. She didn’t know what would happen to her in the end. Would she end up as mad as the mysterious man? She shuddered at the thought.
She took a walk during their midday break. If she sat still for too long she would fall asleep. She made sure not to wander too far and kept her senses open, fearing that the pulling sensation would come back, signifying his return. But the woods were quiet. Pleasant. The day was cool, but not too much so. Her fingers kept busy, braiding and rebraiding her hair, but her mind wandered, not able to focus on any particular thing. She almost passed by the elf before she noticed him.
Farron sat a few paces away on an overturned tree, his back to her. Slowly, as if in pain still, he took his shirt off, revealing the bandage underneath.
Claire could feel the heat creep up to her cheeks. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before. But still… She sighed and, against her better judgment, went to him. Finishing off her third braid, she circled around, gathering her courage to face him in such a state. It was only proper to help him after he had done so much for her.
“Let me help,” she said, not giving him a chance to protest. She walked up to him and brushed his hands away from the bandage. White strips crossed his chest, tied at the shoulders. Red stained the piece of square cloth over the wound. With shaky hands, Claire started to untie one of the knots, the silence awkward at best. She had hardly talked to him since that night. He, like the rest of the camp, had been on edge since the attack, taking extra guard shifts at night, riding ahead or behind of the group to keep a look out. It wasn’t that she had been avoiding him, she just hadn’t seen him much. Perhaps the man had gotten to him as well. There weren’t many people that he couldn’t handle, or at least fend off. Maybe, in some sense, he was scared.
“You can’t sleep much either, I see,” he said, finally breaking the silence.
“Is it that easy to tell?” She gave him a meek smile that he returned, breaking some of the tension. She undid the knot and started on the other side.
“Are they back? The nightmares?”
She was silent for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to tell him. It would only make him worry, but he would easily see through a lie. After all, the evidence showed clearly on her face in the circles under her eyes. “Yes,” she admitted hesitantly.
“Claire…”
“He entered my mind,” she continued before he could say any more. She avoided his gaze, concentrating on the second knot, which was much more difficult than the other. Faint echoes of mad laughter filled her mind, of the pain that followed when he delved into her head. “The way Razi was able to. Only… it was worse.”
“Claire,” he said again, stern, gripping one of her wrists.
She looked at him finally, her eyes wide. She had let herself get lost in the memories, in the feelings of that night again. “Sorry,” she said. He released her wrist and she shook her hands in the air to help chase away the jittery feeling before starting on the knot again. “I keep thinking about it. About him… What he wanted… I’m still not sure…”
The knot finally loosened and she was able to peel away
the small square cloth it held in place over the wound, causing him to wince. The wound had scabbed over, a thin red line over his heart. Claire couldn’t help but see the symbology of it and the guilt stung her deep down. This was what would happen to him if he stayed with her. Or worse. How many scars would he get because of her?
She let herself get lost in her thoughts again, so much so that she didn’t notice the small jar of salve or where he’d gotten it from. She shook her head, clearing it of the afflicting thoughts. As he spread the green liquid onto the wound, she set the bandages aside and grabbed the fresh white square sitting next to him on the tree.
“I know he’ll come back someday,” she said quietly. “I just don’t know when. Or where.” She laughed, though it wasn’t because she was happy. Quite the opposite, really. Perhaps she was going mad. “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that he will come back for me, or the waiting and wondering. Sleeping with one eye open, or not sleeping at all. Wondering what he wants with me. He wanted to see me lose control, like I did back in the cave, see my magic take over. I just don’t…”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said and set the jar aside. “I won’t let him near you again.”
Claire sighed. “I’m not sure even you can stop him, Fare.” She applied the square bandage to his wound. “Despite what your ego tells you, you are not invincible.” She caught his grin out of the corner of her eye as she reached around and wrapped one of the strips back into place. She made sure it was snug before tying it off.
“I would, you know,” he said as she reached around him to wrap the other long strip into place, his voice nearly a whisper. “Give my life to protect you.”
She tensed at that, hesitating for a moment, her hands faltering. It was a sweet sentiment, but not one she wanted. Quickly, she finished off the knot, her anger growing. She patted the bandage above the wound hard, making him wince again. “Well, don’t,” she snapped at him. “It’s not what I—” She stopped when he gave her a curious look. Was he testing her to see if she still had feelings for him? She took a step back, withdrawing her hand, and was able to breathe again, to concentrate a little better. “It would just be a waste anyway,” she said, trying her best to keep her voice even. She turned away then and left, making her way back to the horses. She could hear him call after her but she refused to turn back, refused to let him see the emotions on her face— her feelings that she was so bad at hiding, even now.
Fire filled her vision, a wall of orange and crimson so big it consumed the sky. The heat was so intense it felt like her skin was going to melt off. Screams sounded in the distance, ones of agony and horror, over and over again. She tried to back away, but her feet were stuck, unmoving. She looked down to see them buried in the dirt. And she was sinking. Inch by inch, sand swallowed up her legs. A mighty shout filled the air, one not belonging to any man or woman. Claire twisted around to find the four-legged beast rear back before charging at her, spear in hand, smile on his twisted face. She screamed and tried to pull her legs out of the ground, but it only made her sink faster. So she bent, and with desperate clawing fingers, dug, her fingers rapidly becoming bloody. But it was too late. The centaur was already on her, lifting his spear back, ready to strike out and kill her.
Claire’s eyes snapped open and she gasped violently. Sweat covered her from head to toe. Her heart raced in her chest.
“It’s alright.”
She heard his voice before she saw him. After blinking a few times, her vision cleared enough for her to focus. “Fare…” Her voice came out in a sigh of relief. He leaned over her and it took her a moment to realize her head rested on his lap. She was too tired and distressed to care.
“You’re alright,” he said softly. He brushed a few loose strands of hair off her forehead.
Claire closed her eyes, relishing the cool night air. The sound of the crackling fire soothed her, the heat warming her left side. It reminded her too much of her dream. She would have to start sleeping a little further away from it in the future and just borrow an extra blanket from one of the men. She peeked up at the elf. “Can’t sleep?”
He grinned, but it didn’t hold his usual arrogance. “No,” he said, leaning back on his arms.
Claire turned on her side and looked up at him. Watched as the flames and shadows played across his face. She missed this, being so close to him. Even now it felt comforting. Safe. Not awkward in the least. Well, maybe a little.
“There are so many people after you, I fear that if I close my eyes, even for just a second, you will be snatched away from me,” he said, trying his best to make the comment sound light. But his face betrayed him. Worry and sadness shone through as clear as day. Perhaps he wasn’t even trying to hide it. What was the point? It was how they all felt, wasn’t it?
He brushed a hand along her cheek, his eyes following the movement. Claire put her hand on top of his and squeezed. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
He opened his mouth and started to say something, but stopped, appearing to reconsider his words. His eyebrows scrunched together in concern. Perhaps he knew that false words of hope wouldn’t comfort her. She knew the truth. Could feel it in every waking hour, and even while she slept, the magic permeating throughout her body and mind. False hope would do her no good.
Claire closed her eyes again. If the elf said anything else, she didn’t hear it. She was just glad to get the first bit of restful sleep in days.
Claire stood near the edge of the first terrace, her fear of heights forgotten in the shadow of her awe. Et Tessera was the most beautiful city she had ever seen, if not the most precariously situated. Red roofed buildings clung to the cliffside, cobblestone roads winding between them, twisting back and forth until they reached the water below. Cliffs enclosed the bay in a half circle and tall white towers stood at the mouth, flames burning bright at the tops. The ocean stretched out before her, so vast that the blue seemed to meld with the sky, and she was not able to tell where one ended and the next began.
People of every color were everywhere, their clothing as diverse as their ethnicities. Flowers and cloth streamers of red and yellow decorated the streets and sounds of cheering and upbeat music drifted up from a square below. Claire could feel the energy surge throughout her, something she hadn’t felt for weeks. Perhaps even months. The last time she’d seen anything like it was in Rodem. But she had tried to forget many of the things that happened there. She shook her head to chase away the memories.
It was then that she finally heard it, the voice of one silver-haired elf arguing with the eye-patched one.
“And what makes you think I take orders from you?” Captain Bahadur growled.
Claire reluctantly tore her eyes away from the view and turned just in time to witness the captain’s bravery as he stepped up close to Farron. The elf just stared at him, face blank. But Claire knew better. Where her anger was a burning flame, his was as cold as the winter winds. So, instead of witnessing the start to the next Great War, she stepped in to save the day. “And what exactly is the problem here, boys?” She arched an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. What could they possibly be angry about now?
Captain Bahadur turned his scowl on her. “He suggests that we stay here for the night.”
Claire couldn’t help but balk at that. “And why wouldn’t we?” If there was one thing she’d been looking forward to for the past few weeks, it was a nice warm bed. Especially before spending the next few weeks on board a boat.
“If you haven’t forgotten, there seems to be more than one party after you. The more time we spend in one place, the greater the chances of someone finding you again.”
Claire sighed. “I assure you, Captain, that they already know where I am. I am well aware of that fact. And that is precisely why the king and Council sent you and your men along with me. As far as I am concerned, I will be staying the night at an inn. Whether you and your boys join me is up to you.”
It took a long moment for the captain to calm himself,
and Claire could almost see him physically try to swallow his pride. It looked painful. The captain’s fears were not unfounded, of course, and maybe he was correct. They should leave as fast as they could. She wanted to, almost as much as she wanted to stay. But as long as she was free, she would always be running. Her time was running short, so she might as well enjoy the life she had left, right?
“As you wish, my lady,” Captain Bahadur acquiesced finally. “But we leave at first light.”
Claire nodded, and with that, he turned and doled out orders to his men. They would leave the horses here; transporting them would be too costly and dangerous to their health. Claire lamented leaving behind Azra, having formed a bond with her. It was up to the captain to secure a boat, Chet to take care of the horses, Graham to find a suitable inn, Zeriod to buy any supplies they may need, and Alan got stuck with her and the jovial elf. The captain stormed off before he could give her orders. Perhaps he didn’t care. In any case, it was nice to be away from him. Things were sure to be plenty tense among her current company. Claire turned to face them— two opposites of a coin, Alan bright and cheery like a sunny day, and Farron, well… he looked so much like a rain cloud at the moment she was surprised lightning didn’t start crackling around him.
“Well,” she said, struggling to stifle a smile. “Might as well enjoy while we still can.” Her expression faltered when she considered the implications of the statement. Farron gave her a sharp look, but she turned to the crowd before he could say anything and plunged in, squeezing between people.
Makeshift stalls stood on either side of the narrow streets, the shop owners calling out their wares. Claire reveled in the atmosphere. The music, the crowds, the markets— it all reminded her of her favorite time of year back home. She used to like to imagine the faraway lands the people would come from, never dreaming that one day she may actually get to see them. The two men trailed behind her, their watchful presence relieving some of her paranoia. She didn’t like it, living with the constant fear, not knowing who she could trust, who was watching her, when the next attempt on her life or freedom would come. She tried her best to push the feeling down.