by Ko, John
“You were really amazing back there. You guys are so good,” she says.
“I guess we got pretty lucky back there.” It’s winter and he’s outside, but his face feels warm. “At least I did. Monster and Riser are always that good.”
“No, what you did was amazing, Wake. I don’t think anyone else in the whole world could’ve won that matchup besides you,” Julia tells him. For some reason, Wake always finds the ground interesting to look at when talking to girls. But he does notice the doll in her hands.
“Oh, you still have Eveline,” Wake says, nodding at the doll. She used to carry the silken doll with her everywhere back then. At first, the other girls teased her for having such a childish habit, but within a week, all the girls were carrying their own dolls as well.
“You remember her name?” She clasps her hands together. “I never had the chance to properly thank you for saving her.”
“I didn’t really do anything, but I’m glad she’s okay,” he says. All he did was help clean her that one time.
“Maybe to you, but it was about the nicest thing anyone ever did for me,” she says. “Thank you, Wake. I always regretted not thanking you back then, but you didn’t have to ignore me like you did afterward.”
“I didn’t …” he begins.
“No, Wake, you did,” she says. “But it’s okay.”
He never saw it that way. If anything, he was trying to help her fit in with the other kids, but … “I’m sorry,” he says.
“Truly?” she says, eyeing him warily.
He nods.
A huge smile covers her face. “Then I forgive you, Wake Avenoy,” she says. “Just don’t let it happen again.”
He nods again, unsure of what to say next.
“Wake?” she finally says.
“Yes?”
“Before I forget to tell you and regret it for another couple years, I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me in Greenwood,” she says. “I left The Courageous after that match. And I would have had a much more difficult time finding a new team if you hadn’t said what you said.”
“I was just saying what had to be said. But I’m glad it helped,” he says.
“It really did,” she says. “If it wasn’t for that, I would never have gotten enough points to qualify.”
“That’s great,” he tells her. “Congratulations. I’m glad things worked out.”
“It’s not official yet, of course,” she says. “But I should be joining you in school next year. I hope you remember your promise not to ignore me this time.”
He still doesn’t understand why the daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants in Wysteria would care about something like that. “I won’t.”
Just then another girl’s voice calls his name “Wake … Wake Avenoy!”
“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” Julia stops smiling.
“No, no I don’t.” His face is now downright on fire. “I don’t know who that is.” Though, the voice sounds eerily familiar. He looks around but can’t find its source.
“Whoever it is, she’s over there.” She points behind him. Her neutral expression becomes a frown. “Oh, I didn’t know you were friends with The Doll Princess.”
“We’re not really friends. But it’s probably best that I go see what she wants.”
“Wake, before you go … I also wanted to say, I’m sorry,” she says. “About what Kearney said … I didn’t know he was going to kick you and your sister off the team when I joined. I never …”
“It’s okay, Julia,” he says. “I know better than to believe anything he says. Besides, things sort of worked out, anyway.”
The curtains to the Royal Carriage are closed, but the voice coming from behind them definitely belongs to her. “I was hoping we could talk, Wake Avenoy.”
“I don’t know, Princess,” he says, not sure if wants to.
“Please, just for a moment.” The door swings opens. From where he stands, all he can see are the shadows within … and her pale, delicate hand. What exactly is going on today? First, Juli and now her … He wonders. Julia Redsilk was obviously just being nice, but the Princess …
I shouldn’t be here talking to her, he tells himself even as he enters and takes a seat across from her. Strangely, her ever-present chaperon isn’t there. She notices his look of confusion. “The Sibyl is elsewhere at the moment, but she is listening through this.” She pulls out a small shard from the folds of her dress.
Why am I here? What does she want? he wonders. Wake doesn’t know what to say; what comes out his mouth is, “So you’re never really alone, are you?”
She shakes her head. I shouldn't be here …
He’s always had a hard time looking at people directly, a problem he’s never noticed until Esperanza told him how annoying it is. He’s worked on it since, but this is different. He can’t look at the Princess for a whole different reason.
For others, it’s painfully awkward to look into their eyes. With her, it’s painful to look away. Dark Arts! Selfish Agenda! Ruthless, he tries to tell himself, but he doesn’t really believe that. What he really sees is someone who is never alone, but who is still somehow so alone. She needs me—Why do I have to think that?
“Wake, I …” she begins
I can’t deal with this right now, he realizes. “Look, Princess, I’m not going to help you … not anymore. I really believed you. I thought you needed my help to do what’s best for Wysteria, but …
“But I just can’t believe that anymore—not by the way you’ve acted. If you cared about anything or anyone beside yourself, you wouldn’t have … you couldn’t have done the things you’ve done. You’ll do anything to win, including trying to use me. I’m not the weak link you think I am.”
If he had looked up just then, he would’ve seen a genuine expression on her face for the first time since they’d met.
“I do not think that, “ she says, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry that you feel that way.”
They sit quietly in the dark of the carriage. He keeps his eyes down, afraid of falling back under her spell, but there’s still the scent of her. How can someone so heartless smell so lovely? Like flowers blooming in some dark forest, but not so sweet as much as savory. Snap out of it, Wake! Now’s not the time to be thinking of the way she smells.
“Wake, I bear a burden, one that I don’t expect any to understand. But I was hoping … I was hoping that somehow you might.”
“Stop!” he says, wanting to feel sorry for her. How can I fall for this again; am I that stupid? “I don’t want to hear it. You brought in a Pro-Tripper to beat my sister. You wouldn’t allow us to use the Transporter! You had that guy break Monster’s arm! You tried to break Riser’s sword!
“And what did those things mean? Fate paid in blood; imagine how much he was hurting—running and fighting on his cut-up feet,” he says, shaking his head. “What if Esperanza lost? She’d have to give up everything … everything! Everyone would have!”
“I am truly sorry, Wake,” she says. “But that is the way things had to be. You’re the ones who declared yourselves against me. Fate and Esperanza would have done the same in my shoes. And as awful as those things may seem, I would do all those things again. What I regret is …”
“No, they wouldn’t have,” he almost screams. His mind is a muddle. His eyes feel wet. I have to go now, he decides. But as he stands he finds himself frozen.
There, on his arm is her hand, so delicate it burns. Why do I have to be so weak?
“Wake …”
“If you had acted even a little bit human,” he tells the Doll Princess, finding some last bit of strength within him. “If you had believed me when I said I would’ve made things right, things may have been different.”
He shakes his arm free of her touch. The sound of the door shutting behind him sounds so final that he has to run to get away from the echo it makes in his head—to get away from her.
A light winter rain begins to fall. Half-fr
ozen flakes melt against his skin only to rise again like steamy thoughts from his head. A few drops are all it takes to start scattering what remains of the day’s crowds. The lucky ones find spots beneath one of the many brightly colored canopies lining the small street. As it begins to really pour, the less fortunate jostle for a spot beneath the canopies’ edges.
Wake Avenoy trudges through it.
Between raindrops, all that can be heard are whispers of the day’s matches. That is, until someone mentions that the Glissade are in town. Word of their arrival jumps from one island stranded in the rain to the next, until each and every canopy is abuzz with the news.
Even a boy deep in thought can’t help but hear the rumor between icy raindrops. Not that he gives it much thought. He already has too many other things to worry about right now. He did just do the right thing, didn’t he? After all, he fought off temptation and remained loyal to his friends. But then why does he feel so bad?
The last flurry falls just as Wake makes it back to the inn. Inside its white stonewalls, Sense paces back and forth, tapping a finger to his forehead. The tapping stops when he looks up to find Wake standing there, silent and wet.
“Wake! Thank goodness you’re back.” Sense sighs in relief, but the worry quickly returns to his eyes. “We have a big problem.”
“Problem?” Wake asks. “Did someone get hurt? I mean more than …”
“No, no, nothing like that. Listen, everybody’s already out looking for him. We couldn’t stop him …” Wake’s never seen him like this before.
“Stop who? What are you talking about?”
“It’s the Captain. He’s gone missing. He took off looking for the Glissade and no one was able to stop him.” Sense takes a deep breath and it all comes spilling out. “As we were coming back from the match, everyone in the city was talking about it. The Glissade are here.”
When he first heard the whispers of the Glissade, Wake hadn’t given it a second thought. Their arrival portends prosperity and although rare, it is not unheard of to find them at a tournament—no matter how small. But other than bringing good luck, the Slithering Men aren’t known to bring much else. Except for their Challenges of Honor, Wake suddenly remembers. How could I forget about those ridiculous challenges that no one can ever complete? No one ever takes them seriously and no one ever would. Except for …
“This could be really bad,” Wake says. “You think he went after them seeking a Challenge of Honor?”
“Yes, he even said as much as he took off.” Sense stands there shaking his head. “It was the darnedest thing. One minute, he’s sound asleep in the back of the cart and at the first mention of Glissade, he’s up and running down the street, yelling something about challenges and honor. The others went after him right away. I came back here to wait for you.”
“Thanks, Sense,” Wake says. “How long ago did this happen?”
“It’s been a quarter hour or so since I last saw them. We still have time to find him before it’s too late.” Sense looks up at Wake. “Wake, I’ve been thinking … the others are already on the Captain’s trail. Maybe we should go see if we can find the Glissade before he does.”
“Excellent idea. Let’s go.”
The storm clouds are but a memory. And just as the fair weather has returned, so have the people, though the crowds are of a different sort than before. Dressed in their evening finery, young and old stroll through the streets of Saranghae as performers breathe fire and juggle light for their delight. Teared lights and torchlight both combine to make the streets seem almost as bright as day.
As the search grows longer, so does Wake’s worry grow. This is really bad, he thinks. Things are already hard enough as it is; impossible, really. And if the Captain were to make it even more difficult by accepting a Challenge of Honor …
It’s not hard to find word on the Slithering Men. Depending on whom they ask, the Glissade are everywhere and anywhere but where the pair happen to be.
Sometimes, they’re recognized as members of that team, the one that came out of nowhere to cause such a stir. Often they’re congratulated, and always they’re asked if they can really do it—sweep the Grand Finale. All of which just makes the search that much more arduous.
Finally, they meet a pair of young ladies who swear up and down that they saw the Glissade with their own two eyes. The problem is that one saw the contingent of Slithering Men in Upper Saranghae and the other swears to have seen them in all their splendor along Phenry Street in Middle Saranghae.
There’s nothing left but to split up. Sense takes Upper and Wake heads for Phenry Street.
Finding Phenry Street proves more difficult than he anticipated. The small road connects two other small roads that really don’t need connecting. Without stopping multiple times to ask for directions, Wake may never have found it at all.
In the distance he can hear the sounds of the harbor: sailors singing in a thick accent as they unload their wares, a dock master yelling something or other, shouts declaring fresh fish for sale and the occasional wave, knocking hull against pier.
But Phenry Street itself is strangely silent. No living soul is in sight. The buildings loom lifeless, making Wake wonder if he’s still really in Saranghae, the city he’s come to know for being as bright in night as it is during the day. What there is however, are long, line-like tracks that lead to an almost dark corner, a slight aberration in a city full of light.
But they suddenly stop here, in the middle of nowhere, Wake thinks, staring at the middle of the small, winding road. He checks the nearest buildings, but all he finds are shops already shuttered or closing for the evening. He makes his way further and further down the winding street, but finds no new sign of the Slithering Men or anyone who may have seen them. Maybe Sense is having better luck, he hopes before thinking to put on his gauntlet.
There’s another Gauntlet-User nearby. Could it be Fate? Or maybe Sense found nothing in Upper Saranghae and has come to help.
Wake tracks the Hand of Fate to the narrowest alley he’s ever seen. Whoever it is, they are definitely in there, he thinks, looking into the deep, dark opening.
“Sense?” he whispers once, but silence is all that answers back. He steps into the darkness. First one tentative step, then a second. On his third, he begins to make out a towering metal gate not too far away. The other Gauntlet-User is close now. He’s almost on top of them. “Fate? Sense?” he whispers. “It’s me, Wake.”
Once again there is no answer. Wake gives the gate a gentle tug, but it doesn’t budge. There is no sign of a lock, but on its other side he can make out what seems be a counterweight. It connects to a chain that surely must pull the gate open. If I summon enough Water to weigh it down, then just maybe …
“Blue Summon: Water Globe …” he begins, but before he can finish, he finds himself hunched over in pain. What’s going on? There’s a sharp pain between his shoulder blades that wasn’t there before. Nothing comes out when he tries to speak, not even a gasp.
“Not another word,” comes an angry whisper. When Wake looks up, he’s met with a stare so fierce he forgets he can’t breathe. All he can do is nod.
“Are you daft?” the shadowy figure asks. Without waiting for an answer, the shadow thumps him hard on the chest and suddenly his lungs begin to fill. A claw-like finger is held up to his lips. This close, he can see it belongs to a girl who can’t possibly be older than he is. She’s no taller than even young Poe, but her eyes … her eyes are old. Her eyes are frightening, even more so on such a young and lovely face.
She is dressed head to toe in black, and her gloved fingers end in claws. She looks at him and asks, “Wake Avenoy, do you know who I am?”
He does. “Ieiri Skyshadow.”
Chapter 57
IEIRI
[Alley off of Phenry Street, Middle Saranghae]
“Good,” Ieiri tells Wake Avenoy. At least for a fool, he knows that much. He’s supposed to be older, but by the way he acts, you’d assume she’
s the senior. His obvious discomfort is discomforting. He’s just the sort of boy she hates most.
She grabs him by the chin and forces him to face the ground before the gate, where many circles are inscribed within one. “Don’t you know what that is?” she asks, more than a little irritated.
His eyes grow wide. “It’s a Rune of Detection. It will sound an alarm if anyone uses a Tech anywhere near it.” His dumbstruck look disappears when he notices her gauntlets.
He grabs her hands and brings them close to his face. “Are these really Hands of Air? They’re nothing like Riser’s … Oh, and I suppose I should thank you for stopping me.”
Ieiri pulls her hands back, barely suppressing a growl. “Don’t touch me.”
“You’re like that too?” The boy manages a weak smile. “I’m sorry, I just get excited by equipment I’ve never seen before.” He circles her, pointing out this and that. “Even your sandals are clawed. All that’s missing are whiskers and a tail.”
“No, I’m not like that,” she hisses. “But I am a girl.”
That manages to turn the older boy all awkward again. But for some reason, it doesn’t bother her as much as before. This one is definitely odd, but at least he has a passion for something, she thinks. And he wasn’t half bad during their match today. Though, by the way he lost his last matchup, she couldn’t really call him good.
Earlier, she made it just in time to see him take the field. She still isn’t exactly sure of all that transpired before she arrived. All she knows is if Fate didn’t make it past the first matchup, something must be wrong.
“How badly is he hurt?” she asks.
“Who?” he asks. But she doesn’t have to answer with more than a glare for him to figure it out. “Oh, you mean Fate. He has a cut on his foot. It’s somewhat deep, but nothing serious. He’ll be fine.”