“I’m glad Lyn’s here,” Sil said.
“Have you decided what you will do once you cross that gate?”
Should she start by going to Sato? Her Holiness thought so. Sato’s Mines. The town would be so much different now under imperial rule. But she had to start somewhere. “Yes,” she said. “I’m going to take your offer, Doyenne. I’ll take that stagecoach back home.”
The Doyenne stopped, turned and smiled warmly. “I am glad to hear that,” she said. Then her smile faded. “You’ll be outside the Princess’s jurisdiction, outside her protection, in imperial lands. The people still hold onto their faith, but I fear the soldiers accustomed to war often have dulled consciousness so take caution.”
“I’ll be fine,” Sil replied.
“The coachman will wait for you. Don’t speak to him except to tell him where to take you. We’ve paid him, but that’s as far as I would trust him. You have your training as a martial mage. You have your wits and my blessing. You have—”
“I’ll be fine, Doyenne. This is the Golden Lady’s will. I will be fine.”
“And your warding stone? You have that on you, don’t you?”
“Your Holiness, you’re mothering me,” Sil laughed.
The Doyenne fleeted a soft wrinkled smile. “Yes, I am. I apologize,” she said before leading her again toward the two priests far in the distance. “One of those two must have that speech you’re to say.”
“Speech?” Sil forgot all about it. “I…will have to speak to a…lot of people?” She placed her hand on her head. “Looking like this?”
“Yes, the Synod should have thought about that before cutting your hair, but don’t worry. Most of the City is sleeping, and I’m sure Mister Conner will make every effort that only few people will be there. One more task and you’ll be free to go.”
“Free to go…,” Sil repeated, stretching out her hand and waving, but neither of them waved back. So serious, aren’t they? Don’t they believe? They will. Sil smiled. “Yes, everything will work out for the best.”
5
Mendeleyev Von Mendevoch: Mending in the Tower
“So, you’re the new girl Josie’s running around with? Miss Twilight, is it? They even gave you that creepy all-black outfit too. How do you breathe in that?”
“Who told you? You’re not one of us!”
“Oh! You’ve never heard of me? Better hold onto your black mask ‘cuz you’re standing in front of a legend! I’m the infamous Mendeleyev Von Mendevoch! Memorizer and perfect partaker of purloin-ity…par-excellence!”
“Oh.”
“What do you mean ‘oh’?”
“I’ve heard about you. More like ‘Broken Clock’ Mendevoch. You’re late.”
“Broken Clock? I’m here, aren’t I? Rochelle sent me to help you guys out on a job.”
“Don’t know why we’d need you.”
“That’s ‘cuz you haven’t seen me in action.”
“As long as you don’t fall behind, ‘Ticktock’ Mendevoch. Josie’s already prepared me to expect the worst.”
“Don’t listen to my fans, Miss Twi..light..killer…assassin —Can I have your real name so I can make fun of you?”
“No.”
“Josie’s training your sense of humor too, I see. Don’t mind what she told you, she’s just jealous she can’t talk to people without giving them nightmares. …Now, where is she? She’s here, isn’t she? …Always hiding…probably gonna—”
“Hello ‘Ticktock’ Mendevoch. Jealous am I? How’s Rochelle’s favorite brat doing?”
“Damn it all, Josie! Don’t scare me like that! And yea, I’m fine, by the way. Oh, have I told you how much I admire your eyes? I mean, I really like the way your outfit brings out the cruelty in them.”
“A waste of an insult, Mend. You’ll have to try better than that.”
-Conversation between Mend of the Night Lady, and Roe and Josie of the Coming Shadows
"A soothing rain tapping outside, a smooth piano playing inside, a cold drink in my hands. Memories are a funny thing; funny as in they are the only things keeping me alive. Alive or sane? I don’t want to answer that. Oh, but of course these would be the things they just had to take away from me. I suppose I deserve it: sentenced to the opposite of what I love. Hot dreary haze, loud penetrating silence, dry suffocating air. Darkness too, but only when the sun doesn’t shine through that one particularly annoying crack in the wall I’ve become so familiar with. Oh, yes, I’ve thought, ‘Why, don’t they know it’s here? Don’t they know that with some of my infamous ingenuity, some of my magnanimous industry, and maybe a little luck from the Almighty, I could enlarge that crack and sneak myself through?’ Out and free! Of course, they do! Don’t be stupid. They probably want me to do just that. It’ll give those sorry beasts a great show knowing that as soon as I break through to my freedom, I’ll fall out to my death. Who thought of a damn tower prison on the side of a damn mountain? I suppose they did. Bastards! Beast, that smooth piano does sound nice, doesn’t it? Where was I? …Oh right, escaping out! Out to about...a thousand feet in the air? Ten thousand feet? Twenty thousand? It isn’t one foot to be sure. I’d die, or …no, I’d be dead. And in the end, the great Mendeleyev Von Mendevoch would be taken out by the most worthy adversary he hath ever face-th —the world itself, Gen Shemver, as he tried, in vain, with all his might to shatter the world with all the muscular solidarity of his shoulder. When I say it like that, it sounds far more endearing. But to the disappointment of future myth-makers and storytellers, that is not my plan. No, I have a far worse fate in store for me: Rochelle. My benefactor? Foster mother? Sister? Thorn in my ass, more accurately. No, no, don’t get me wrong. She’s helped me when I was a babe and all was taken from me, or so I'm told...repeatedly...by her. I guess my real parents lucked out in raising me. That adventurous job fell to Rochelle. No, no; I'm still being far too harsh. Or is this isolation finally cracking my mind open like a walnut? They both look the same on the inside too. Ever notice that? Ah, insanity…at least it’ll keep me busy. A soothing rain, a smooth piano, a cold drink. Rereading every bit of news I've ever read too. Yes, amazing memory. I'm one of those brilliant memorizers, sight, sound, hearing, touch, but only when I want to...which isn't often. I would have memorized more if I knew I was going to be alone in a tower with no one to talk to! Who? Rochelle? What a nice man. I call her ‘Roach,’ but that’s a secret between you and me. She put me straight away to work when she brought me in. Stealing purses. Conning patrons at other bars. —Not hers! The first good swift kick to my ass was all I needed to learn—"
“Beast, Mend! You reek of death,” a voice sounded from some dark corner of Mend's one-room palace. “And you’re talking to yourself? Almighty on high, it hasn’t been that long. I thought you were tougher than that.” Mend opened his eyes and saw light streaming in from a small square opening of his ‘palace’s’ metal door. For a moment, Mend thought it was one of the guards about to throw in a scrap of bread. But he wasn't that lucky. Not today, because he recognized the voice, that strained feminine tone mixed with a strong masculine growl, like a beauty with a beast suffocating in her throat. Yea, it could only be her. Rochelle ‘the Roach’ Von Davenance.
Maybe Death was playing a joke on him, pretending to be her before dragging him to the Dark Well. ‘Dragging’ would be an exaggeration —Mend would run ahead of him. But, no, Death knew better than to impersonate Roach. Maybe they were the same person. Maybe not. But he doubted the two of them could be in the same room together without one of them leaving with a broken jaw, a lighter purse, and a contract for a longer life. Contract? No, Roach would make sound like he gave her a favor. Pretty easy compared to how she treated people she actually likes. No, that voice was hers and the way she used it on Mend had that perfect combination of disappointment, resentment and...dark satisfaction. Like a hangover from fine wine and bad cheese. “Mend, you dumb brat, you better not be ignoring me.”
Mend closed his eyes. "Oh, it's just you
." The weakness of his voice surprised him. It was much stronger in his head. Soft piano played; he smiled.
"Oh, it's just me? What kind of greeting is that?”
“How long,” he asked.
“Almost three weeks,” Roach replied. “You missed my birthday.” A lie. Well, code, actually. It meant that she wanted to know if he was successful on his latest job. How long could he string her along depended on how brave Death was.
“Birthday,” Mend coughed. “Beasts have birthdays?” He meant it as an insult, but it was the best he could do. Maybe he was dreaming all of this and he would get another chance? Three weeks, it didn’t seem that long. Or did it? That smooth piano. He smiled again
“Damn it, Mend. Don’t tell me this place cracked you.” Metal door groaned open against the stone floor.
“Is that really you, Rochelle,” he replied, peeking one eye. The light was piercingly bright, blinding everything except for the hefty silhouette of what he guessed was a woman. Orange and jasmine, her favorite perfume, broke the playing piano in his head. “Or are you one of my hallucinations? Give me a sec. Rochelle, you're big enough to block the sun!” He laughed himself to a cough.
She grumbled. “Ungrateful brat. I should kick you for insulting your elders, but I like my shoes without crap on them…goodness, Mend, didn’t you at least try to keep yourself clean?”
He rattled his chains. “Key,” he said coarsely. But that dark silhouette widened about where her chest should be. Crossing her arms? No, a light flared by her face; she lit a cigar instead and took a puff. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me—
“I got another job for you.”
“Bitch,” he whispered.
“That’s two kicks I owe you, brat. But first, you’ve gotta get out here.” Roach walked toward him, and to Mend's relief, her massive build blocked more of the stinging light from outside. She bent down near him, her orange and jasmine perfume making him hope Death manned-up. “Sorry Mend,” she whispered. “I can’t get you out of this one so easily.”
Mend tried to laugh but choked. Smooth piano played again in his mind. “It’s OK,” he whispered back. “My fault. Got caught sneaking out. Hefty punishment isn’t it? I told them what you told me to tell them: that I was trying to steal the Jewel of the Mountain. Didn’t matter—”
She gasped. “Wait? You were caught sneaking out? …Does that mean…”
“Happy Birthday,” Mend smiled. “It’s outside. I memorized where I dropped it. A small thing, that book. Princess Zana better like it. Her brother, the fat one, kept reading it. Stupid fat…it was because of him that I got caught.”
Roach laughed, which always sounded menacing to him, like a cackling overlord. “You're a cunning, incompetent, stuck-up brat, Mend. You know that? But…I’m really glad they didn’t kill you.”
Thanks. Mend tried to shrug but instead hunched his shoulders. “So how do I get out of here?”
“Landrie wants you to do more sneaking around. The Golden Island,” she said. “They’ll let you go and forgo the bounty if you can get some information for him.”
“The Empire,” he asked, feeling his head drooping. Sleepy already? This had been a very productive day. “How the hell am I going to get in there?”
“Stop that,” she shouted, shaking him by the shoulders.
Mend shot his eyes open. “Stop what?”
“That damn singing. I’m right here. Stop singing so damn loud.”
Mend stopped, sniffled and listened. The piano in his head had stopped too. He then laughed himself to the floor. “Oh, that’s great! It wasn’t in my head after all!”
“I hope that’s one of your jokes, Mend," she replied. "You’re starting to worry me."
"No, no! It's fine! It's all fine. It wasn't in my head. I was singing it all along."
She stood. "I...yea, I'm going to tell 'em you’re taking the job."
"No wait. What is it? What am I looking for? Maybe it's something I don’t wanna do?"
She shook her head. “Damn it, Mend. I can’t leave you here to go crazy. You got no choice. You're going to that damn island.”
“Then at least tell me what I’m after.”
“They want a sketch of the Empire's Beast. That’s all. The one their dismantling. Go in, memorize it. Get back.”
He rolled over onto his back. “That’s all? Nah, I'd rather not. I like it here. My palace—”
Roach turned away, shouting, "Jailer, hey you! Tell 'em he'll do it. Now get this brat out of here before I break one of his ribs! Trespassing on the Red Rock. Imagine that."
"...But I never said yes."
***
One week later
Night was always the best time to do anything. At least, Mend thought so, especially on the job. Getting onto the Golden Island was easy enough. The Empire can’t have ships everywhere along the coast, but they damn well almost did, all except for a small cove. Mend thought it was suspicious, but with no other way in, he had to take the chance, and luckily…he wasn’t already stuck in an awful tower losing his mind again —yet. He shivered. Never, ever again. I’d rather live with a thousand Roaches before going back there.
“Now, now, Mend. You don’t have to exaggerate; the tower wasn’t that bad,” he told himself as he crouched on a small rocky ridge that overlooked a sandy plain that seemed to become grassier farther away until meeting a dense forest some mile or so ahead. Trees? They certainly didn't look like trees. Mend knew tress; well, he knew what trees looked like in the dark. These looked twisted and tangled with sharp points —thorn bushes, that’s what they were. Huge ones, too. This is going to be fun.
Above the freakish thorns were rows and rows of brightly lit buildings extending probably another mile or so farther away. Obviously, the Empire would drown their Sapphire City in white and orange lights. But weren’t sapphire’s blue? If the Empire had the wealth and weapons to try their hand at conquering the world, then ‘commonsense’ had better not have the nerve to stand in their way! But the place was wealthy, he could practically smell it in the salty air. Probably more loaded than a silver mine, but twice as deadly. A challenge? No! Focus on the mission, Mend! Towers come in all countries.
The city itself resembled a small mountain with each row of buildings growing higher and —why not— brighter until reaching one enormous building in the center with so much light shinning on it that —Damn it Roach, how am I supposed to get in there like that? 'You wanna eat?' would be her reply. Mend grumbled. Stupid hunger. That one huge block-shaped building in the center must be where the Empire housed their Beast. Large illuminated ovals traced patterns on its walls as if the Empire feared the building might just get up and go for a walk out to sea. But no, this all made sense. All the lights, his objective being in plain sight yet in the middle of the damn city, Mend’s job had to be as hard as possible.
He scanned the horizon all round him. Rock beach behind him, sandy beach plains ahead of him, the damn city in front. One thing he didn’t see were people —guards specifically. Too easy. Something isn't right. He wondered if Roach could get him out of an imperial prison. Nope, I’d never see her again. Suddenly, the prospects of getting caught seemed brighter.
Mend took in a deep breath, said his usual token prayer to the Almighty —more out of habit then anything else, as if the Almighty would bless trespassing— before he plunged down the ridge onto the sandy plain. He slipped and sled under the shifting sand, jogging as best he could toward the mass of tangles up ahead. This was the most dangerous part. If anyone one would carelessly look over the plain, there he’d be: a small black speck tripping over himself like a toddler learning to walk.
Damn it. He slipped to his knees, recovered, and continued slogging through. Little by little, the sand underneath him hardened, becoming sturdier with patches of grass here and there. But Mend kept focusing on the huge thorn bushes —more like trees now as he approached. His pace increased to a run over the surer ground. He relaxed a bit, letting his legs get into the
rhythm of running. He looked left, right. No one. He should have felt good about that, but he didn't. Someone should be here. This is the Empire. How could they leave such a gaping hole? Arrogant Bastards.
When he finally reached the edge of the thorn forest, he collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, before turning himself over and gazing up. Even the night sky was drowned out by the city lights. Not even the stars were safe from them...but at least he made it. The hardest part was over.
Relieved, Mend allowed himself a few moments of rest, but once drowsiness arose in him, he got up straight away. No way was he going to let an unscheduled nap get him caught again. Once —almost twice—was good enough.
The forest ahead was shrouded in darkness, a strong contrast to the lit city beyond it. Now that he was up close to it, he could see it wasn't as dense as it appeared from afar. But they were trees alright, twisted and loopy, like vines but massively thick with rough barks like trees. They crisscrossed each other as they extended upwards using one another for support. But, most importantly to Mend, the barks of these freakish vines were covered with triangular leafy thorns the size of his head.
He touched one with his glove and it sliced through the fabric with little effort. "Yup, that's a problem," he said to himself. "Better wait till I get through to change clothes." He reached into his pocket and took out a compass. "And…it’s not pointing to the city. Dumb Mend, obviously they would shield their Beast." Pocketing his compass, he drew back to his memory of a rough layout of the island, and knew the city was northeast of where he had landed. Not that he'd miss the city; it's the only damn thing on this island. He chuckled to himself at the thought of popping out of this freak forest only to see open water. 'You would do that,' Roach would say. Mend mouthed a nasty reply.
And with a shrug of his shoulders and one more prayer to the Almighty —for all the good it did him— he started in. Ah, darkness, how I missed you. Well, Mend didn't really miss the darkness; more so, he missed being out alone at night. Solitude and peace that gave his mind a chance to reminiscence about weighter things like who the Seven are. Are they really gods? Or just fakers? And those Beasts, what were they? What was the meaning of it all? Of life? His life? And why was breaking into the Empire’s most guarded territory as easy as walking into one of Roach’s backhands to his face?
Call of the Chosen- Broken Kingdoms Page 14