by John Marco
Marilius stood his ground. “I’m not the one who’s running this time. This time I’m staying to fight.”
“Fine.” I turned and continued on my way. “Then you’ll get the death you deserve.”
16
Maybe I was harder on Marilius than I should have been. Maybe I knew that and didn’t want to face it. I admit I was angry, but I admired him, too. He really was a dead man for staying with Fallon. Only I didn’t care so much if Fallon died. If there was a villain in this all, it was Fallon. Men like him didn’t get rich by caring what happened to others. Fallon knew what Diriel would do with the mummia, or at least what he would try to do. He just didn’t care. And all those deaths, and all those refugees—they were on his head. He was as guilty as Diriel.
But Marilius was different. Part of him was wily, like Fallon, but part of him had the heart of a soldier. He was loyal to Fallon, and loyalty is never really a flaw. Marilius had found what he was looking for in Isowon—a leader to love and a land to call his own. He had a mission now. I was sure it would kill him, but I envied him for it. Until I remembered that I had a mission, too.
My mission’s name was Cricket. Only now, I didn’t know how to save her.
It was still early by the time I returned to our chambers, so I wasn’t surprised to find her still asleep. The servants had left her a breakfast of jam and bread, an appropriate favorite of a girl who was, in too many ways, still a child. Along with a decanter of milk and a bowl of bright, unrecognizable fruit, her food waited for her untouched on a sunlit table by the window. I paused from my tiptoeing to watch her sleep, undoing my sword belt and laying my weapon against my own bed. As I did, Malator’s voice jumped out at me.
Where will we go now?
I strode over to the chair by the window and sat down facing Cricket. I didn’t have an answer, but Malator knew that already, surely. Perhaps I should have been tired, but I wasn’t. I was alive after beating at death’s door again, and as awake and aware as ever. I stared at Cricket, admiring the way that sleep erased all the worry from her gentle face. She had stopped dreaming and now looked angelic, a beautiful reminder of why I had brought her with me.
Will you wake her? asked Malator. If we’re going soon she should know.
“There’s time,” I said softly. “Let me think.”
In my mind I heard Malator sigh, saw him stretching back as if relaxing by a campfire. I had gotten some answers from Fallon, but still couldn’t shake the dread. The monster was his problem, but it was mine as well. It was stalking us all.
But why?
“You know why I brought her with me?” I whispered. “Look at her. You know why? You didn’t want me to, but it wasn’t because I needed a friend. It wasn’t so I could save her. She saves me, Malator. She reminds me of the good in the world. Because I forget.”
In my mind, I saw Malator nod. Then he said, You remind people of the good in the world too, Lukien.
That made me laugh. “Is that why they use me? Is that why I’m so trusting? How many men has Diriel turned into slaves? Hundreds? Thousands?” A thousand men like me. A thousand soulless soldiers. The thought haunted me. Was I a slave too?
What will you tell her?
“Everything. She needs to know the truth about Marilius. He betrayed us. He lured us here to fight.”
Do you want to fight?
“You’re in my mind,” I whispered. “You know my heart.”
But he asked me again. Do you want to fight?
“I want to fight. Yes! What else am I? I’m a fighter.”
Cricket opened her mouth as she started to waken.
I stopped talking and spoke to Malator only in my mind. I came here to do good. So let me! I closed my good eye, focusing on him. Tell me what to do. You know the answer. You know what I should do. Please . . .
He shook his head. Impossible.
Then help me decide!
I have tried. His young face smiled at me. Remember? You’re a soldier, Lukien.
So? Yes, I’m a soldier . . . I struggled with his riddle. Soldiers do good. I want to do good.
Loyal, he reminded me. A king should be loyal.
To his men . . .
Was Diriel loyal to his men?
Of course not. He betrayed them.
And who can help them?
I opened my eye in surprise. “Me?”
Cricket awoke as I blurted out the word. She smiled sleepily when she saw it was me. “Lukien.”
I got out of the chair and went to her bedside. “Sorry to wake you.”
She reached out her hand and touched my face. “I was afraid. You’re all right?”
Lukien, interrupted Malator, don’t let her distract you. You were on to something.
“Yeah,” I told him. “Just a moment.”
Cricket frowned. “What?”
“Nothing. Talking to Malator.”
“Oh.” She stretched with a yawn. “What’s he want?”
I looked at her seriously as I considered Malator’s idea. “He wants us to go to Akyre, I think.”
Cricket brightened. “Finally.”
“It’ll be dangerous,” I warned her. “Are you game, Squire?”
Cricket didn’t have to think more than a second. That’s the way she was—loyal. She tossed off her blankets as her bare feet hit the floor.
“Let me dress,” she said quickly. “You can tell me more on the way.”
* * *
In truth, I had two reasons for going to Akyre. I wanted to do some good, to see if I could end this war before it started and somehow save Diriel’s men. But I still needed answers about the monster, and Akyre seemed the best place to find them. Of course I couldn’t explain any of that to Marilius or Fallon. I couldn’t even tell Cricket my reasons, or at least not all of them. She still had no idea the monster was after her as well.
When I told Fallon we were leaving he was as petulant as ever, refusing to say good-bye or wish us luck. He remained holed up in his parlor, sure that the monster would soon return. Marilius, however, did see us off, providing us with enough food and water for the journey north. He watched me mount my horse, then hugged Cricket before helping her onto her pony. The courtyard outside Anton’s palace was nearly empty, but a handful of his soldiers watched us from the balconies. I wondered if they thought us cowards, or if secretly they wished they were leaving with us.
“It’s a vendetta, Lukien,” said Marilius. He spoke up just before we rode off. “You’re going just to settle up with Wrestler. But you have a score to settle here, with the creature. Think on that while you’re running away.”
“You’re wrong!” Cricket snapped. “Lukien’s going to help them. You’re the one who should be coming with us, Marilius. You’re the one who turned those men into monsters.”
The way she came to my rescue almost embarrassed me.
“Diriel’s the monster,” said Marilius. “You’ll see what I mean when you get there.” He spoke to Cricket like an older brother. “Look after yourself in Akyre. Stay close to Lukien.” His voice got soft. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Cricket gave Marilius her assurance that she’d be the one looking after me, then turned her pony toward the road.
“Ready, Lukien?” she asked. “Let’s make some tracks.” And she led us out of Isowon.
So I followed. With a nod to Marilius I let the girl I called my squire herald me away from Anton Fallon’s gleaming palace, through the streets of his amazing city, and toward the ugliness of Akyre. We had the whole day and hours of sunlight ahead of us. Once we left the city behind the land grew dull and barren again, and there were no distractions, and no place to hide from Cricket’s inquiries. I told her everything—about the demon and how Anton Fallon had released it, and how he’d hoodwinked King Diriel, selling him useless mummy powder at first, and then grounding up Diriel’s own ancestor to make more—and that batch had worked. Somehow.
And then I told her about Marilius. By then we wer
e more than an hour out of Isowon, and she had figured out his involvement already. But Cricket liked Marilius, I knew. She trusted him, and so I was gentle in my judgment. I brushed at the road dust on my cape, pretending that my words hardly mattered.
“It’s what happens sometimes to a man,” I said. “Soldiers most of all. Some would follow their leaders right off a cliff. Even mercenaries like Marilius.”
“Marilius loves Fallon,” Cricket observed. “That’s why he did it. To protect him. That’s why he went back to him. That’s why he’s staying.”
“You’re not angry?”
“Why should I be? He didn’t lie to us, Lukien. Not really. He told us his friend needed help. We didn’t have to go with him.”
I laughed. “I want to be like you, Cricket! Really, I wish the whole world had your heart. Marilius didn’t lie? But he didn’t tell us about the monster, did he? Or that it’s a demon, or that his lover was the one who let it loose. Not to mention the mummia.”
Cricket shrugged. “You can be like me, Lukien. Just don’t be so angry all the time. You know it makes you stupid. You said it yourself—that’s what happened with Wrestler.”
“Yeah, about that . . . we’ll be seeing him in Akyre.”
“If he touches me again I’ll bite his hand off,” she hissed.
“Tell you what—you control yourself, and I will too. Deal?”
“Deal,” she agreed. But as we rode on her expression got thoughtful “Do you think Diriel will listen to you, Lukien? If he’s as bad as they say . . .”
“No one’s ever as bad as they say, Cricket. All my life I’ve been hearing about evil men. When I was young they sent me to war against Raxor of Reec. Why? Because they told me he was evil. Turned out they thought I was the evil one. It’s the way people think when they’re afraid. They make men into monsters.”
“I don’t remember Diriel at all. His name isn’t familiar, and I don’t remember what kind of king he is . . .” Cricket’s eyes lost focus on the road, clouding over with amnesia. “I’m from Akyre. I’m from Akyre. I know it! I’ll remember when we get there.”
“You remember the Falls,” I reminded her. “That’s something.”
“We’ll be close to it. Marilius told me. I dreamed about it again.”
“I saw you dreaming,” I told her. “Last night. I woke up and saw you. Seemed more like a nightmare to me.”
“Oh, no,” said Cricket with a weird smile. “It was beautiful. I was a little girl in the dream. I was swimming. So happy!”
“Really?” I asked. “Happy? Were you alone?”
She bit her lower lip, thinking or pretending to think. “Hmm. I can’t remember.”
“I haven’t forgotten my promise,” I told her. “By tonight we’ll make it to the bend in the river. Tomorrow, if you want, we can head east a bit, try to find Sky Falls.”
“No,” she said. “We have a mission first.”
“It’s on our way. If you think it’ll help you remember . . .”
“I’m your squire, Lukien.” She turned to look at me. “A squire doesn’t tell her master where to go. The mission first, all right? Then we can go to Sky Falls.”
“Cricket . . .” I squinted at her. “Is this you being strong?”
She straightened up high. “I’m not afraid, Lukien. Besides, we came here to find Akyre. Now we have a real reason to go.”
But I was already doubting the mission. What seemed like a good idea just that morning now felt remarkably stupid. How would I free those men from the curse Diriel had conjured?
I didn’t talk about it, and Cricket didn’t ask me. She had faith in me. She was young and foolish and believed in me, and that meant I had to do my best.
* * *
We rode and rode, and I pretended to forget our troubles. We had all the food and water we needed, strong horses to carry us, and a perfect sun to light our way. Even at the height of afternoon the sun was merciful, warm enough to cheer us without burning our noses. We were far from Isowon by then, its beaches replaced by plains of grass and rugged hills. I listened to Cricket sing as we rode, stopping in the middle of her songs to share whatever tidbits popped into her mind. The solitude had loosened her tongue, and I was glad to listen, nodding at each observation she made, each childlike confession. She told me about missing Minikin, and how she feared Gilwyn would send her away once Minikin died, how she screamed sometimes just so people wouldn’t ignore her, and how jealous she was of White-Eye, even though White-Eye was blind. When I asked why, she gave me the only reason that made sense for such a young woman.
“Because she’s beautiful. Don’t you think she’s beautiful, Lukien?”
“White-Eye is very beautiful,” I agreed. “But so are you, Cricket.”
“C’mon.” She rode on without looking at me. “I’m plain. Like this place where I was born.” She sighed and took in our brown surroundings. “I’ve seen how men look at White-Eye, Lukien. Even you.”
I shook my head. “Not me. Never.”
“Yes, you. You just don’t realize it. Don’t feel bad about it.”
“I have a woman, Cricket. I don’t need another.”
“Who, Cassandra?” She turned toward me. “Lukien, she’s dead.”
“She’s alive. Just not where we can see her. But I talked to her. I told you—in the Story Garden. She’s waiting for me there.”
“She’s gonna have a long wait as long as you carry that sword.”
“You’re changing the subject. You are beautiful, Cricket. You’re becoming a lovely young woman.”
“No.”
Now I was puzzled. One thing I know about women—they like being complimented. And it doesn’t matter their age. Once they’re old enough to look in a mirror, flattery gets them smiling. Except Cricket wasn’t smiling at all. She’d gone from happy to gloomy in just a few seconds.
“I’m confused,” I confessed. “You’re jealous of White-Eye because she’s pretty, but you don’t want me to think you’re pretty too. Why not?”
“You’re just lying to me, Lukien.” She pulled the cape I’d made her close around her shoulders. “I’m plain and that’s how I want to be. I’m not like White-Eye. Is White-Eye out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“She’s in Jador. I’m still not getting it, Cricket.”
“That’s right, she’s safe in her palace. Let her be beautiful there. She doesn’t have to worry.”
“Worry about what?”
“Anything. She doesn’t have to worry about anything, Lukien. She knows who she is, where she belongs, who her mother was . . .” Cricket stopped herself. “What’s that?”
“What?”
“That.” She pointed on ahead of us. “A meadow?”
I’d been so flustered I hadn’t even noticed. But there it was, blocking our way, spread out between the hills and dotted with a hundred colors: a meadow of wildflowers. Lit by the sun, I could see the bees darting through the blooms. The breeze carried the perfume.
“Now that’s beautiful,” I said. “See? You weren’t born in such an ugly place after all.”
Cricket’s bad mood broke like a fever. “Can we ride through it?” she asked excitedly.
“No choice. We can rest there. The horses need a break, and you must be hungry.”
“You too, right?”
I hardly ever got hungry any more, but I nodded. The truth is the sword gave me almost all the strength I needed. I let Cricket lead us deep into the flowers, marveling at the colors of heather and daisies. The blooms shot knee-high to our horses, rippling like water as we made a wake through them. We were in an ocean, with great, nodding sunflowers and tiny buttercups alive with lady bugs. The sweet smell reminded me of Jadori honey. Cricket laughed, driving her pony farther through the blooms, until she pronounced the perfect spot.
“Here,” she declared, and dismounted. Flowers tickled her legs and her skin reflected the yellow sun. I looked at her and thought, yes, this girl is beautiful.
We too
k the blankets from our horses, laying them along the ground to make a camp for ourselves. I showed Cricket how to water a horse out of a canteen, and once our mounts were taken care of we broke out the provisions Marilius had given us. As Cricket wedged her bread and meat together, I stretched out to stare at the blue sky. Before long, Cricket nestled down beside me.
“No clouds,” she remarked, disappointed. “I like seeing the shapes.”
The sky was almost too bright. I closed my eye and watched the shapes appearing on my eyelid instead. I heard Cricket sigh, and I wondered again why she had argued about being pretty. Surely she knew what she looked liked. Surely she’d noticed boys watching her.
“Oh . . .”
“What?” she nudged.
I understood, but couldn’t say so. I wanted to tell her I’d protect her, that she didn’t have to worry about another letch like Wrestler. But the truth was I couldn’t do that forever. She was my mission—for now—but one day she’d be a woman in a man’s world. So I lied.
“Nothing. I was thinking about Malator.”
“What about him?”
“Just talking to him.”
“In your head, you mean.” Cricket made a grumbling noise. “That bothers me sometimes.”
I turned my head to look at her. “It bothers you when I talk to Malator?”
“Sometimes,” said Cricket. She kept staring into the blue sky, like she was afraid of my reaction. “You talk to him but I can’t hear it. Just feel left out sometimes. I wish I could see him too.”
“I know, but it’s impossible, Cricket. An Akari can only appear to his host. No one can talk to Malator but me.”
That’s not true.
Malator’s voice startled me. “Huh?”
Cricket grimaced. “You’re talking to him now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, he . . . huh?”
You said: I can’t appear to anyone but you, Lukien. That’s not true.
“What’s not true?” I sat up, seeing Malator in my mind.