Everything was layered in an inch of filth, and Arianna grinned as she spotted a broom in a far corner. She felt Lessa recoil at her side from the sight of the grimy place. Set along the two walls and parallel to them, benches stretched long enough to fit twenty people each. Facing them, on the far side of the room, sat a large desk clattered with what seemed to be old parchments. Arianna noticed a high-backed chair matching the desk strewn in the opposite corner, facing the wall.
The only thing not fashioned from oak proved to be a stone door hinged on the very opposite wall from where they stood. Arianna recognized it as the same locked door they had discovered behind the wooden one under the pillars. She nodded her head, understanding the mystery of the doors a little better.
“See, I knew it! We have to start from the beginning if we want to get to the gold. No cheating,” she said, patting Jeom on the back. He smiled down at her, amused.
“Wait,” said Lessa as she put her hand on Arianna’s shoulder to stop her from going any further into the room.
Arianna laughed. “It’s just a little dirt. You should be used to it by now,” she said, pulling at her robes.
“No, really. Something’s wrong…” she said, scanning the room from the doorway.
Arianna became more alert, trusting the intuition of her friend just as much as her own. She figured since they both had experience outwitting each other, they must be equally witted in some things.
“She’s right. Look,” said Jeom, pointing to the floor.
Everything would have seemed in place if not for the large footprints clearing the dusted floor, tracking further than their own into the room. Arianna’s mind flew to alert.
“Somebody’s been in here recently.” Jeom stepped back. “Do you think it’s the lost souls of the slaves?” he said, wide-eyed in all seriousness.
“Ghosts can’t leave footprints,” said Arianna with a solemn look. “And I don’t think Jacob and Damon will be coming to our aid again.”
“Then what do you suspect caused them, Belvedor?” he said.
“I don’t know,” she hissed. “It’s probably a different magical monster seeking vengeance.”
She tried to stay calm, but she felt Lessa’s nerves radiating off of her. Jeom sniggered as he registered the fear in her eyes. She chewed on her lip, resolving to work on her facial expressions since they seemed to mirror her feelings and not the calm exterior she always hoped for.
“I think I could be of service,” said a harsh voice from the far corner of the room.
As soon as the words resonated throughout the dusted chamber from the invisible source, Lessa, Arianna, and Jeom all screamed at the top of their lungs. Ghost or no ghost, all of these surprises started to take a toll on their sanity. Their voices filled the wide space and bounced around their ears in a heady distraction. With the same thought coming to each one’s mind simultaneously, they turned to run back through the entrance they had first come. To their horror, they found the door locked tight.
As they spun back to face their fate, they noticed the forgotten high-backed chair in the corner slowly turning to face them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ANOTHER LOST SOUL
A nameless voice wrapped beneath deep olive robes sat in the grand chair before them. The lengthy cloak bunched on the dirty floor and the sleeves hung loose so that neither hands nor feet appeared visible. With the hood of the cloak pulled low over what Arianna hoped to be a head, all traces of possible mortal existence stayed absent.
The cloth of the cloak looked tattered and old, coated in white and black muck. Whatever, or whoever, the robes concealed sat completely still, seeming as if it had been waiting there forever in the rotting room. More unnerving still, the arched blade of a scythe leaned against the figure. Generous portions of the steel were covered in what Arianna deemed dried blood, and she shivered thinking she stared upon Death.
No one said anything as they waited for the startling presence to attack. With each passing second their hopes diminished, wondering what would happen next, wondering if they could survive yet another battle.
Arianna couldn’t bear the suspense any longer, and she found her hidden voice. It shook with fear as she spoke, but her words still surfaced. “What are you?” she said. The words danced around the room on strings of dust. Lessa had gone rigid beside her while they all waited for a reply.
Time ticked by slowly, and they stood paralyzed with fear before words trickled back towards them from the ominous figure. “I am just another lost soul… like you,” said the splintered voice, rising to an upright position. His hood hung so low that only a dark shadow appeared visible in the space where a face should be. Arianna stiffened as she spotted a white, crinkled hand gripping the scythe, exposed as the loose sleeve gathered around its wrist.
She stifled a scream and tried to steady her swords as the monster inched closer. “Wait!” she bellowed, frantic as it began to glide towards them. The jade cloth rolled across the floor, and the creature seemed to float like the ghosts she had encountered. Closer still it came as a cloud of dust stirred and choked their already desperate lungs.
“What do you want from us,” said Jeom in a croaked voice as it neared.
“A way out,” it said in a murmur.
No one knew what to do as they stepped backwards, pressing their backs flat against the door with their weapons quivering in their grasps. Lessa screamed as the floating robes crumpled into a pile on the floor at their feet. As the cloth billowed to the ground in a mound of blackened green thread, a mortal physique began to piece together.
The hood had inched back just enough so Arianna could make out a brown hairline of a head face-down on the floor. Black, muddied boots became clear at the feet, and the scythe had fallen away from the figure’s hand. Even Arianna now realized that dried blood did not cling to the blade but instead grimy clumps of the same black mud that layered the figure’s robes. She stepped around the body and kicked the weapon out of reach, followed by Lessa who cautiously observed the scene from a distance.
Jeom gathered his courage and bent down to turn over the crinkled, white hand of the figure.
“What are you doing?” hissed Arianna as she and Lessa stayed safe at arm’s length.
Jeom never even flinched as he rolled back the robes of the fallen voice, inspecting him further.
“This is no ghost,” he said, pulling the body into his arms. “This is… I think this is my brother.” The words faltered, and Arianna and Lessa stood dumbfounded, trying to comprehend his conclusion. Jeom looked up with disbelief in his eyes, meeting the worried gaze of his friends. “His name is Demetrius. This is my brother. I know it is.”
Arianna’s lips moved to try and form a sensible response, but she thought of nothing. Instead she took Lessa’s hand and pulled her down to kneel next to Jeom. When she got a closer look at the body lying limp in his arms, she realized that the skin didn’t wrinkle at all like she had thought. The hand she glimpsed earlier was coated in the same dirt and mud which covered both his weapon and clothes.
She gasped as Jeom cradled the sallow face of a young boy in his hands that, although no ghost, looked to be on his way to the afterlife.
“But he looks nothing like you,” said Lessa. “I don’t understand.”
Arianna examined the features of the stranger before her, agreeing with Lessa.
He looked much shorter than Jeom, and shaggy, golden-brown hair peeked out from under all of the muck with a little bit of chin stubble to match. Small patches of clean skin shone coppery and sun-tanned, and, as his eyelids hung half open, Arianna spotted a glimpse of bright green eyes.
“He’s my half-brother then!” snapped Jeom, distraught as a tear dripped down his cheek. “Does it matter? We need to help him, Lessa, please.” His eyes pleaded, and his hands trembled.
Not wanting to question Jeom further, Lessa looked to Arianna who nodded in reassurance.
The young healer began issuing orders. “He looks de
hydrated,” she said. “Jeom, tilt his head up to an angle, and Ara, grab the water from your pack.”
The two didn’t hesitate to obey her commands. Arianna handed the water to Lessa who forced the boy’s mouth open to take sips. The water lapped at his cracked lips, and he seemed unreceptive to the drink as it dribbled down his mud-caked chin, revealing smooth skin underneath. After a moment, the liquid began to disappear into his mouth, and Arianna saw him swallow.
Lessa pulled away to give him a moment to breathe, but then his crusted hand clasped to her wrist, holding it steady at his mouth. Lessa seemed stunned by the strength in his grip, and, as his eyes sprung open, the radiant green of his pupils looked astonishing amongst all of the filth. He continued to drink from the bottle until not a drop could be found, and then he let her hand free.
With a hazy expression, he scanned his rescuers. His eyes found Jeom’s who gazed down at him in pure veneration.
“Brother,” said the boy. “Have I died? Can this really be you?” he said in murmurs as he stared up at Jeom with the same reverence.
“I’m here, Demetrius,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“I feel… ravenous,” he said just as his stomach let out a hungry growl.
Arianna pulled out the bread they had leftover and handed it to Demetrius. He began to devour it without ever glancing away from his long-lost kin.
“Slowly,” said Lessa, guiding as she hovered over him to observe every movement. “You’ll put yourself into shock.”
Cyn flashed before Arianna’s thoughts as she watched Lessa morph into a true caretaker.
“How long have you been locked here?” asked Arianna. He only shook his head in reply.
“Let’s give him a moment,” said Jeom. “Let him rest.”
Arianna nodded, stepping back to give them room. She wanted to help but didn’t know how. She racked her brain for ways to make Demetrius feel more comfortable.
“Why don’t we have him lie on one of those benches for a bit?” she suggested. “I’m sure it would feel much better than the floor.”
“Sure thing,” said Jeom.
With ease, he lifted his brother into the air, careful not to agitate him too much as he carried him over to one of the long pews lining the wall adjacent to them. Lessa wiped the dust off of the sanded seat so Jeom could set him down on a clean surface, and Arianna sat near his feet, leaning her back against the wavy sea of polished wood. She let her fingers trace the simple carvings of blossoms embellished in the woodwork while Jeom tended to his brother.
He shed his violet robes and bunched the cloth into a pillow. Demetrius let his eyes droop as he fell into a much-needed, deep sleep, and the others sat back and watched over him while he dreamed. Even Sano kept a watchful eye as he planted himself in Jeom’s lap.
After a while, Lessa and Arianna left Jeom to be alone with Demetrius. They wandered across the room to where the elaborate desk stood, wanting to clear their heads from the new turn of events out of earshot. Its presence at the far end of the room seemed very commanding, set in a protective stance near the stone door.
Scattered across the thick desktop, Arianna saw piles of rotting, yellowed parchment and dried inkbottles and pens. The drawers which decorated the front of the desk in elegant moldings filled with junk and more untouched supplies. For a while the girls snooped through the junk, lost in their own thoughts.
Arianna rummaged through all of the drawers, finding only piles of old parchment in each one. Examining one closer, she realized it to be a roster or checklist of some sort with times and names scribbled in the applicable columns. “What do you think this was for?” she asked, breaking the silence and handing over her findings to Lessa who peeled through the molding papers on the desktop.
Pulling out of her reverie, Lessa took the parchment from Arianna and scanned it. “I’m not quite sure,” she said, “but there’s more piled here as well.”
“It looks like some sort of old logbook like the one the regulators use to keep track of us,” said Arianna.
Lessa nodded. “See here?” she said, pointing to the top of the parchment. “Each scroll I’ve seen has a different date on it like this one, and these must be the times that people checked in and out with whoever sat at this desk… maybe.” She shrugged her shoulders, sliding her hand up and down two of the columns where delicate handwriting recorded different intervals.
Arianna didn’t recognize the strange language of the column headings, but she still agreed with Lessa’s time theory. “They’re so old,” she said as she read some of the dates on the parchment.
“I know,” said Lessa. “Some were dated over two hundred years ago even.”
“I wonder what this column might be for?” Arianna indicated another listed before the signatures of the unknown people.
With respect to each individual autograph, it seemed that a single person had scribbled all of the information into their perspective categories, including this particular row of chronicled data. Arianna scratched at her head as she tried to decipher it. Unlike the universal column of time written in the same form they had been educated in, this record was headed in the same foreign language, and every other row filled with a different, indecipherable word.
“I don’t know,” said Lessa, “but maybe these could be the names of places? I only say this because if this column records time intervals, then probably the people signing it are checking in and out of different places beyond this door,” she said with a slight wave to the stone threshold behind them.
Arianna stared at her with a wide grin on her face while she let Lessa put together the mystery. Her conclusion made perfect sense for what they were working with.
“Well done, my friend,” she said, taking the parchment and placing it back in its rightful drawer.
She nudged it closed with her hip, and, as the impact jostled the desk, a thin flap in the center fell open with a pop. A rain of heavy silver coins sprinkled to the floor, tinkling like a parade of wind chimes. The girls bent down to examine them, pinching the coins between their fingers.
“I guess this wasn’t a free service,” said Arianna, arching an eyebrow as she studied the coinage piled at her feet. “I’ve never seen money up close like this.”
As a slave, money served as one of the privileges denied to her alongside citizenship, but Arianna had learned about it during many mandatory lessons and knew it to be a significant part of the world. She’d even seen intricate representations of the gold and silver monies which ruled the Olleb, but none quite like this.
She examined the silver. It looked much larger to the ones in her studies and almost covered the entirety of her palm. Her fingers tickled as she slid them over the jagged edges of the coin, like those of an octagon. On one face of the warped circle, a single word was engraved in the same strange language they saw earlier. It stroked across the middle in a thick slew of block letters. The other simulated an image of a double-edged axe. It was painted in wispy, silver strokes, and a gilded dragon had been designed into a significant part of the weapon.
As both girls turned the silver over in their fingers, staggered by their find, they decided to pocket some. Hopefully, they’d be worth something outside of Blancoren.
“What’s going on over here?” said Jeom as he strode towards them. Startled by the sudden intrusion, Arianna and Lessa jumped up from the floor. Jeom rested his hands on the desktop with a look of concern etched across his face as he stared down at them.
“Sorry about the noise,” said Arianna, composing herself. “It didn’t wake Demetrius, did it?”
“No,” said Jeom. “He sleeps still.” He scratched at the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at the girls. “I wanted to thank you two for earlier… and frankly for everything else. I’m sorry if I was short with you before. I realize that we’ve only just met, but I already feel that I owe you my life.” The words tumbled out of his mouth like a bird free of its cage.
The girls glanced at each other, not quite
understanding his implication.
“What do you mean?” said Arianna. “You don’t owe us anything. We’re all in this mess together, remember?”
“No,” he said. “You don’t understand. If I hadn’t discovered you in the Inventor’s Zone, then where would I be?”
Lessa tried to interject. “I think—”
His voice grew loud with passion. “I’d be twiddling my thumbs,” he said, “trying to go unnoticed and survive until the day those monsters handed me my freedom. But I took my freedom, and I owe you everything for that. This adventure I’m sharing with you is nothing less than spectacular!”
“But, Jeom, there’s no need,” said Arianna, cocking her head to the side.
He held up a hand. “Since I’ve joined you on this unknown journey, remarkable things have happened to me. I ran away from suppression, I met two insatiably courageous women, I discovered that magic and ghosts more than exist on this earth, and now this,” he said, gesturing towards the bench where Demetrius slept.
Arianna and Lessa smiled, blushing at his enthusiasm.
“I never thought I’d ever see my brother again. Yet somehow, in all of this craziness, here he is.” He took hold of Arianna and Lessa’s hands, gripping them tight in his own as he demanded their gaze. Arianna shrank back, reminded of her master’s commanding presence once more. “I owe you everything,” he said. “You saved me from a pre-written destiny and opened my eyes to all new possibilities. I’ll always be indebted to you both.”
“Maybe this is part of your destiny,” whispered Arianna as she remembered Jacob’s words.
Lessa and Arianna tried without success to hold back their smiles as Jeom pulled them close. His words touched them, also reminding them of all the hardships they had faced in their not-so-far-gone past.
Belvedor and the Four Corners (Belvedor Saga Book 1) Page 28