A Bridge of Realms

by B. T. Narro

  Andar didn’t know what the commander was trying to tell him, nor did he care. All that mattered was saving him. Andar was about to scream for help again when he noticed a man and a woman rushing over.

  “Guards!” yelled the woman. “Guards, guards!”

  The man crouched over the commander, putting his hands near Rolan’s neck as if hoping to do something but unable to decide what. The commander’s neck was entirely covered in blood by then.

  Rolan sputtered out a few more sounds before he went deathly still.

  “You shouldn’t look,” the man told Andar.

  Andar could’ve punched the fool in his face. He was about to scream that the man had taken too long to act, when suddenly Andar realized what the commander had been trying to tell him. The blood of the sword belonged to whoever had done this to him. Rolan was gone now, like Andar’s father, but at least this time Andar could take revenge.

  “He must have been stabbed in the back as well,” the man said as Andar rushed over to pick up the commander’s weapon. “What are you doing?”

  Andar didn’t answer. He saw the trail of blood ahead of him and followed it. The red trail was thick and easy to track as Andar pick up speed, but soon it stained the dirt in only small spots. Andar was forced to slow as he came to roads populated with people, not because he cared about pushing them out of the way, which he did with rage, but because it was easy to lose track of the blood.

  “He’s got a bloody sword!” someone yelled, pointing at Andar.

  “Someone killed the commander just now!” he yelled to the gasping audience who had all stopped to gawk. “But the commander cut the murderer with this blade before his attacker fled. Has anyone seen someone hurt going this way?”

  Someone sitting on a barrel with a pipe in hand stood up and pointed north. “Aye, a man in uniform with a bloody calf ran that way.”

  Andar started to run, but he stopped. “What did he look like?”

  “I didn’t see his face, only noticed him after he’d passed. He had brown hair, short.” The man shrugged. “I suppose he was of normal height. I don’t know what else. He had on a uniform,” he repeated. “His pants were ripped around his cut. It looked deep.”

  Andar sprinted as fast as he could. He should be able to catch up so long as he didn’t lose the trail of blood. But the farther north he went, the more people used the roads. He had to slow just to get through them, and soon he’d completely lost the trail of blood.

  “Has anyone seen someone with a cut leg running through here?” Andar asked. A few people looked at him but none seemed to really consider his question.

  “The commander of the army was just murdered!” Andar yelled. That got their attention. “The man who did it was in uniform. He was cut on the back of his leg. Has anyone seen him?”

  Many people shook their heads at Andar. A few muttered things to each other.

  Andar ran back the other way. He had seen blood on this road before, but now it was rubbed into the dirt. Andar got down on his hands and knees when he thought he saw a spot, but it was too mixed in for him to be sure it was even blood. He got up and asked the same people here if they had seen anything, and he got about the same reaction.

  No, he cannot get away with this! Andar tried a street at random, hoping to pick up the trail. He shouted everywhere he went, but he soon realized that he had gone the wrong way. No one had seen anyone with a leg wound.

  Andar searched for an hour as he came to realize that the man was certainly long gone by now. He didn’t know what to do. He did not want to see Rolan’s body, but he needed to one last time if the commander was going to be taken away. He needed to say goodbye.

  Andar rushed back to find that a group of guards had come, surrounding the commander. They warned Andar to get back as he approached, but he ignored them. He pushed through as they put their hands on him. He saw the commander on a stretcher, a white blanket laid over his torso that was stained with blood.

  “Stop, I need to say goodbye.”

  “Let him through,” said one of the guards. “Just don’t touch anything, boy.”

  They still had their hands on Andar as he came close, pulling him slightly away.

  “I’m sorry,” he told Rolan. “I didn’t catch up to the killer, but I will find him one day. I will make him pay for what he did.”

  “What did you see?” asked the same guard who had let Andar through, but Andar ignored him as he began to cry. The commander looked terrible. His normally dark skin was pale and sickly. He was so very dead. His life had been ripped out of him by someone who had stabbed him in the back and then cut his throat.

  “Why would anyone do this?” Andar asked no one in particular as he sobbed. Rage overtook him as he started to push the guards who wouldn’t stop putting their hands on him. “One of you did this! One of you army men! How could you? He was good. So good!”

  One of the guards cursed at him while another took out a sword. Andar knew he had to stop or he might be arrested or even killed, but he couldn’t help it.

  “He was trying to get rid of the men who did not deserve the uniform, who took advantage of it! He was killed for it.” Andar pushed one of the nearest guards as hard as he could, sending the man to the dirt. “None of you are like him! You’re all corrupt.”

  Someone pushed Andar down from behind. He tried to get up, but a knee to his back slammed him down.

  “That’s a lot of talk from someone who might be the murderer,” the guard accused.

  Andar cursed the fool. “I tried to save him! And I was the only one who went after his murderer. You should be searching the streets right now!”

  “Sounds like you were the only one here. And that’s a bloody sword you were holding. I don’t see any other weapons around here.”

  “That’s a good point,” agreed another guard.

  A third said, “Looks like we found the murderer.”

  “Liars and crooks! That’s all you are. Liars and crooks with a uniform! The commander was ashamed of you. He even told me.”

  Someone hit Andar on the back of the head with something hard, dazing him.

  “That ought to shut him up,” another voice said.

  Pain swelled through Andar’s head and down his spine. He had many words for the guards, but he had better start thinking of how to get out of this mess instead.

  They were starting to pull him up. He cringed as he saw spots and bright lights where there should be none.

  “He didn’t do it,” said a familiar voice.

  “He didn’t,” agreed a woman.

  As the blurriness faded, Andar saw that it was the two strangers who had come to help them.

  “I saw as well,” called out a man walking toward them. “The boy only tried to help. Someone else killed the commander.”

  “I saw, too,” agreed another citizen. “The boy came later.”

  More of them came to encircle the guards, who finally let go of Andar. He swayed a bit but found his balance.

  “Did anyone see who killed the commander?” asked one of the guards.

  “I just saw someone in uniform running away,” answered a woman.

  She gave the same description that the man with the pipe had: a uniformed man of medium height with short brown hair. His pants had been ripped open at the back where he was bleeding.

  It didn’t take long for it to be clear that no one else had seen the murderer. The guards made everyone return to their homes. They were unnecessarily pushy about it. Andar tried to stay near Rolan’s body, but they threatened him with prison for interfering if he did not go home.

  “At least tell me what you’ll do with Rolan now,” Andar said.

  “This is not your concern, boy,” answered one of them.

  Andar was getting sick of that word. “I’ll leave as soon as you tell me what’s going to happen with his body.”

  “It’ll be brought to an investigator,” answered another. “Later it’ll be buried.”

  “Did he ha
ve family?” Andar asked.

  The guards looked at one another and grumbled among themselves.

  “A wife in another city,” said one. “We’ll make sure she’s notified. Go home now.”

  Andar didn’t want to go home, but he wasn’t allowed to stay here. He had blood on his clothes. He felt not only dirty but nauseous. He needed a bath, and then what? He would have to figure that out.

  He walked to the nearest bathing quarters for army men, showing his badge that the commander had forgotten to take from him. Andar almost hoped that someone would try to stop him. He was in the mood to argue, even to fight. He didn’t care if he was hurt. But he was let through without incident.

  He spent a long time bathing and washing his clothes, getting all the blood off that he could. It was almost a relief when he realized that a small stain would remain on his sleeve. He didn’t want to wash away all of the commander yet.

  He went home and stumbled into bed. He had a lot of time to compose himself before Rygen and Leo came home. For now, all he could do was cry.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Time passed slowly for Leo. It had been months since Rygen began working on a farm. A lot had happened at once; Andar and Leo making their first links, the commander’s murder. But since then, their lives had fallen into a routine that did not change, at least not for Leo and Rygen. Andar’s days were most likely different from the one before because he was thieving again, but this time their father wasn’t around to stop him from taking items or coin that might result in one of his hands being cut off.

  Leo tried not to worry about his brother. He and Rygen had already spoken to Andar many times about being safe. He seemed to heed their advice, but he still brought home many gifts.

  It was finally Andar’s birthday tomorrow. He would be fourteen, a legal adult. There would be no more fear of being thrown out of their home. Andar had given Leo and Rygen new sets of clothing. He had brought home more wooden bowls, forks, spoons, and knives, and even a few ceramic plates that were glossy and beautiful. He said that one day he would get them silverware that was actually silver, but Leo and Rygen begged him not to. Instead, they suggested selling anything fancy and saving the money so that one day they might be able to move out of this place, because the walls looked rotten in some spots.

  Andar was different after the commander’s murder. He was still nice to Leo and Rygen, but he seemed like he was always holding something in. He didn’t appear completely genuine some of the time. Leo tried to feel what he could with Artistry, but all he could tell was that his brother resented something or someone. It didn’t seem to be Leo or Rygen, so Leo didn’t know what to do about it. He eventually learned to ignore it.

  Leo and Andar practiced linking items in their home every evening. They were both improving quickly, but Andar always seemed as if he expected more out of himself. Leo sometimes noticed jealously. Again, he learned to ignore it.

  Rygen used the little bit of time she had in the evenings to attempt to bring Jin through a rift of her own. But Yune, during one of her visits, told Rygen that even skilled summoners couldn’t do this, so it would probably take Rygen years of patience and practice.

  Yune came by once a week, every week. She never stayed the night, but she always prepared them supper, mostly with ingredients that she brought. She wasn’t fond of Andar’s stealing, and it had taken some arguing before she even agreed to eat the food that he’d brought home for them. Eventually she realized the same thing their father had. There was no convincing Andar to stop. She had to learn to live with it and even enjoy the benefits at times.

  She tried to give Leo and Andar instructions about Artistry, but after just a couple lessons it became clear that she had nothing else to offer. They already had figured out their own methods of using Artistry, and trying to teach them how to use another method only resulted in confusion. With Rygen, however, Yune had a lot of interesting bits of wisdom to share that fascinated Leo and Andar as well, even if they had no interest in summoning.

  Yune eventually wrote a short book on all she knew about magic and convinced Gartel to bind and sell it. Not long after that, Yune started working directly for Gartel at the Bookbinding Guild.

  They all spoke sometimes of Father. They wondered where he was now, and what he and Erisena had planned. Yune said it was possible they might attempt to take Jatn from the king’s army, though it would probably take years of recruiting to get the support they needed. The rift could close by then, which would lower the value of the city. The king’s army would leave then as well.

  “But then Father could come back, right?” Leo had asked.

  “I think so,” Yune had answered, though she hadn’t been her normal enthusiastic self when she’d given her reply.

  Leo longed to see his father. He had looked forward to hugging him every day when he was done with work. It hadn’t mattered much to Leo that their father had kept secrets from them. He cared for them more than anyone else ever would. He would do anything to keep them safe. Leo cried sometimes when trying to sleep, as he wondered whether he would ever see his father again. But Leo made sure to hide his tears from his brother.

  Leo had no idea what to get his brother for his birthday. He thought about it the whole day he was working. They already had shoddy practice swords that they never used anymore. There just wasn’t time to swordfight, even if Leo purchased improved ones. He didn’t have the coin anyway. He and Rygen had saved a few coppers here and there, not enough to purchase anything Andar actually wanted.

  What did Andar want? Leo could think of only one thing: a home they could call their own. Coin, then, should be his gift. It really was a waste to spend it on anything else.

  He wondered what Andar would be like when they finally did have enough to purchase their own home. Would he stop thieving? What would they do with their ability to link objects by then? What did Ascendants do?

  They adventured, Leo realized as he recalled all the stories he and Rygen had read together. They always needed to help themselves or someone else, so they used their power for good. Leo had no idea how he and his brother would use their power. It made Leo want to roll his eyes when he thought of it as power. All they could do was link a couple forks or rocks so that one moved when the other was picked up.

  Still, Leo and Andar practiced hard, as if their skill with Artistry would mean something one day. Leo didn’t know how it could, but he enjoyed training with his brother, so he didn’t complain.

  At the end of the day, he returned home without a gift. Andar’s birthday was tomorrow, so Leo still had a chance to bring home something for his brother.

  That evening was just like any other. They ate and practiced. Leo and Andar linked the usual things on their small kitchen table. Rygen stood nearby with her hands out as she attempted to bring her creature into their realm. No one brought up Andar’s birthday, but Leo could feel in the silent moments shared between them that it was on their minds. Eventually, they all went to bed.

  Leo awoke to someone opening the door to their home. Worried it was Rygen trying to remain close to her roaming creature, Leo quickly got up and headed for the kitchen.

  “What is it?” Andar sat up.

  “I heard the front door,” Leo whispered.

  “Wait, listen.”

  Leo heard footsteps coming toward him. His brother quietly got out of bed and put his back against the wall. He motioned for Leo to get behind him. Andar peered out into the kitchen as the footsteps came closer.

  “You’d better leave,” Andar warned, “or you will be hurt.”

  “Andar, it’s me.”

  “Aunty?”

  She walked into their room and chuckled a bit. “I’m sorry for sneaking. I had hoped not to wake anyone. I have a surprise for your birthday.”

  “Aunty,” Andar chided as he walked back to his bed. “It’s late. I don’t want anything right now. You woke Leo, and he has to be at the guild tomorrow morning.”

  “What’s going on?”
Rygen asked as she walked in.

  “And now you woke Rygen as well,” Andar complained. “Go back to your inn, Aunty. You can give me a gift tomorrow.”

  “Oh, but this is a grand gift that cannot be given during the day. All of you stay here and let me get it. It’ll just be a moment.”

  “I’m sorry about her,” Andar whispered as she left.

  Rygen grumbled a bit. Leo was just as tired as she must’ve been. “You can go back to bed,” Leo told her. It was the only way he could get into his own bed without feeling guilty that she stood in front of it.

  “She said to wait here,” Rygen reminded.

  “Well, you can use mine as we wait, then.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  Rygen lay on top of Leo’s messed up blanket, using her two hands as a pillow. She was always too nice. Leo sat beside her and put his blanket over her. He adjusted his pillow so she’d use it as well.

  “Thank you.”

  She looked sweet as she pulled the cover up to her chin. Leo had grown a lot in the last few months and was now taller than Rygen. It was strange to think that their height difference would only increase over time. Rygen didn’t seem small when Leo thought about her, but she really was.

  He put his hand on her side through the blanket. She found his hand from underneath and squeezed it, then let go.

  Leo was falling asleep sitting up when Yune eventually returned. He heard not just her footsteps approach but another pair as well.

  Leo gasped as a familiar silhouette stood in the doorway.

  “Remember to keep your voices down,” Yune warned in a cheery tone.

  It was a good thing she’d warned them, for Leo might’ve screamed without it. “Father!”

  “Leo!” His father knelt and opened his arms. Leo ran into them, nearly knocking his father over. “Oof. You’ve grown so much! Let me see you.”

  Darren leaned away and looked closely. Leo took a long gaze at his father. It was hard to recognize this bearded man by sight alone. He’d never had a beard before.

  “Father, is that really you?” Andar asked as he approached.