by Taylor Leigh
Reginald stumbled up the stone steps, looking about like a wild man. He reached the top stage and stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do next. A few people below had paused and were pointing at him.
He swallowed and glanced to the upper layers. The palace was such a long way away. Down in the bottom layer the law didn’t seem to exist. A blessing, for sure. He wondered if there were any Denizens in the temple at the moment. If so, this stunt was going to end rather quickly.
‘Listen to me!’ His voice cracked. ‘Hey, everyone, listen to me!’
The flow of people below had begun again. There wasn’t much interest in watching a nutter get executed for lunacy, apparently.
‘Oi! You lot!’ He cast a look to Arkron in distress.
Arkron pointed at the side of the stage. Reginald frowned at her, unable to understand since he couldn’t see her lips. He turned his eyes the direction she was now wildly pointing and shook his head wildly. ‘Oh, no, I’m not that crazy!’ Arkron was pointing at the bell. The sacred do-not-ever-touch-it bell.
Arkron pulled her veil aside. ‘DO IT!’ she mouthed.
Reginald felt his stomach turn over. He was suddenly afraid he was going to be sick. No-one was going to pay him any attention if he didn’t demand it. What else could he do? He bit his bottom lip and marched towards the great, bronze bell. Placing his boot against the side of it he tentatively gave it a small nudge. The bell moved slightly. So, it wasn’t frozen in place by some unseen hand, that was an upside; and he hadn’t been struck down with plague, another good sign.
Reginald gave the bell another forceful nudge and kicked it again as it swung back. A loud GONG! rang out through the entire square, shattering Reginald to his bones. It rang out again and again calling for attention. Despite the circumstances, Reginald found himself almost enjoying it.
Everyone in the square stopped dead. Reginald felt his blood clog up once he realised he had an audience. He wasn’t a great motivational speaker. Sure, he’d been good enough in the desert, but now with all these peasants looking at him, his citizens, what was he going to do? It was as if the bell had cast a spell over the bazaar. He took a deep breath. Just tell them the truth. Just like you said to the plague cities and the plunderers. They’ll listen if your words ring true.
‘I know all of you know that by standing up here, I may as well be dead. And that doesn’t matter much to you; you all have much more important things to worry about. Like where is the next meal going to come from or if you’ll be able to keep your family safe from Denizens snatching them away for sacrifices or the arena. So I understand that anything I say may go unheard. I understand that listening to me can be just as dangerous as me standing up here, but good people of the lowest layer, hear me out!’
He took a deep breath. Quite a few people had moved on by now, but still some stayed, watching him warily. Reginald knew he had to make this good. He told them his name and how he’d come to be. He told them—vaguely—of Red Scorpion. He knew there had to be informers in the audience. People starving for food would do anything, and he didn’t blame them for turning him in.
‘I’m not saying things were good under the Queen—that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because things under the Denizen priests are destroying this city and its potential! They are using it for their own gain and they won’t stop till everyone with human blood is either enslaved, dead or possessed. Your children are being taken away, made to be human sacrifices, more people being pressed into slavery! Have times ever been this bad?’
There was a smattering of ‘No!’ throughout the crowd.
‘There are five times as many of us as there are them, and we can defeat them if we join together! We can change not only the way things are, but the way things have been! As long as I’m alive, I swear I will fight for you, but you have to trust me! A time may come, soon, where you will be called upon to act. One day your children will ask you if you stood up and fought, or if you backed down to the oppressors. I don’t know what that future looks like yet, but it could swing either way, and it is entirely up to you. Stay strong!’
His eyes flickered up the street. A few guards were coming, he didn’t see any Denizens, but that could soon change. He dropped down off of the stage quickly, eyes locked on Arkron.
‘Good job, not too bad. Did you make that up on the spot?’ she asked, leading him away from the building.
‘Yeah, scared to death! Give me a couple weeks and we might actually make some real progress!’
The guards started to shout at people to stop. The crowd jostled against Reginald hard, obeying the soldiers. Reginald found himself being shoved back further and further, away from the guards. He stumbled backwards into a tent stall and peeked out through the dusty air. The guards stood before the people, yelling something he couldn’t make out.
‘Wait just a minute,’ Arkron said. ‘I want to see something…’
‘We were told,’ one guard drawled. ‘That someone here has desecrated the sacred ground of the temple! Now who was it? Those who cooperate will be rewarded!’
Reginald noticed both men carried cat-of-nine-tails. He swallowed.
‘We’ve seen nothing, my lord!’ someone shouted.
A loud roar of people agreed, saying no-one had been there, that they had been looking the other way, or that it was hot and it may have just been the heat getting to them.
The guards yelled for silence. ‘If you are lying—’
‘My lord! How could so many people lie, when offered a chance for food?’ one man spoke up. ‘Perhaps, with all due respect, your information is invalid?’
The guard lurched into the crowd and hauled out a scrawny, terrified man. ‘Have you told us a lie?’ the guard snarled.
‘No! My lord! They are lying to you! This…whole crowd…he must have put a spell on them all! I swear!’ the man stammered.
The guards, in disgust, shoved through the crowd, taking the man with them. ‘Go back to your business! And no more of your games or there will be consequences!’
Reginald stood frozen in absolute shock. An entire crowd of people had stood up for him, with absolutely no reason to do so. He looked to Arkron, open-mouthed. She cracked a smile.
An elderly woman appeared at the entrance of the tent and leant in. ‘We have just risked much trusting you, young one. Do not disappoint us…’
Reginald’s head bobbed up and down. He could not find any words that could properly express the warmth and surprise he felt. He took a deep breath and stepped back into the crowd: a quiet mass of people whom just might turn the tide of their city around.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘I was waiting for you, you know,’ Andrew said. He was sitting sideways in his oversized armchair next to the fire, and did not cast a look in her direction, instead, staring off into space. By the looks of things, he’d been there for some time.
He’d been locked in his room since they’d gotten back from the lake with the body and hadn’t emerged for two days. Victoria had neither seen nor heard from him in that time. It had been up to her to take over his rounds in the village and write down any problems for him to deal with later. She was surprised to see him now.
‘Oh? I didn’t know we were supposed to meet.’
He looked past her, eyes fixing at some point on the wall. ‘I placed the note on my door several hours ago.’
Victoria scowled. ‘I’ve been asleep, and why would you place a note on your door if you wanted me to read it?’
Andrew’s pale eyes flicked over to her. ‘It’s always the first place you stop each morning. Not today, apparently…No matter, you’re here now.’
Victoria, bewildered, walked farther into the room. She wanted to know how he knew she checked his room. It had become a bit of a habit for her after she found him frozen with a murderous headache one morning, but she didn’t know he was aware of that. The only reason she hadn’t checked today was because Thedric had already informed her he was up. ‘You’ve been sitting he
re waiting for me for how long? When did you put that note on the door?’
‘Four hours, twenty three minutes.’
‘And you haven’t moved?’
‘Had a lot on my mind…’ he said slowly.
Victoria raised a brow. ‘Did you find out what the cause of death was?’
‘Hmm?’
‘With Elizabeth?’
Andrew focused his attention back on her, as if suddenly aware of her presence. ‘Oh. No. Not yet. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before. Completely alien…a bit like you.’
Victoria crossed her arms. ‘I think I should take offense to that. So is it a drug?’
‘Not sure.’ His tone was disinterested, making it plain he was finished with the conversation.
There was an awkward pause, the fire crackled in the background, sounding loud in the stillness.
‘I figured we could do our rounds together this morning,’ Andrew said, surprising her again with new energy. ‘I want to see how far downhill it’s gone since I’ve put you in charge.’
‘I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,’ Victoria chided, following him out the doors and onto the wet terrace.
‘That the village hasn’t sunk into the lake yet? Oh yes, very impressed.’
He leant heavily on his cane and inhaled a deep breath of fresh air—his first in several days. Victoria watched his sharp eyes as they observed the bustling village from their position at the top of the stairs.
Victoria opened her mouth to reply when a horrible, blood curdling scream ripped through the quiet morning air. Andrew and Victoria froze. She felt her blood run cold. A scream like that could never be good.
‘Where did that come from?’ she gasped. To her horror, Andrew was grinning.
‘Not sure yet, but it sounds promising! Come on!’ With a bit too much glee, Andrew bounded down the steps of the lodge and after a small group of people running towards one of the cabins across the stream. Victoria hurried after him, heart pounding.
Thedric and several of his mates pulled up next to her.
‘What’s going on?’ he panted. ‘It’s too early; I haven’t had my breakfast yet!’
She shrugged, lost for words and stumbled after Andrew.
Andrew, Victoria and Thedric ended up in front of one of the cabins edging the forest. There wasn’t much of a crowd forming yet and Victoria could clearly see what the fuss was about. An older woman, most likely in her early fifties, was standing over the prone figure of a young man lying in the wet grass.
Andrew somewhat rudely pushed through the crowd and practically flew over to the shape, pulling out his black gloves with a wild grin, examining the body as soon as he reached it.
‘What happened here?’ Thedric asked, trying to sound official.
The woman sniffed. ‘I don’t know, really. I heard a bit of a row coming from their cabin—Chance and Quinn’s—they share. Well, I came outside and saw Quinn there on the ground, bleeding something awful, and Chance took off like a rabbit the second I screamed, headed down for the boat dock!’
Thedric turned to the two guards with him. ‘Get down there, now! Don’t let him get away!’
Victoria moved to Andrew’s shoulder. ‘Is he dead?’
‘Yes, I should say so,’ Andrew reported. ‘Stabbed ten times with a knife. Thick, long blade, mostly used for butchering animals, I shouldn’t wonder.’ He glanced up. ‘Not much more to the story than that, I’m afraid.’
The woman shook her head in disbelief. ‘They were always such nice boys. Never caused any trouble. They rented from me and I never had to complain about them. They seemed to be best mates. Never had any domestics with them before. I can’t believe Chance would do something like this!’
Andrew stood, pulling his gloves off. He offered the woman an uncharacteristically kind look. ‘Do you mind if I have a look inside?’
The woman bowed her head, wandering back to her own cottage. ‘No, do what you like. I just can’t believe...’
Thedric sighed. ‘Guess I better get this body out of here.’ He looked a trifle awkward as he moved to pick up the corpse and Victoria left him to it, stepping into the cabin.
Andrew stood still in the middle of the room, hands outstretched, head slightly tilted to one side, as if trying to feel or hear something. ‘Don’t move or disturb anything,’ he ordered.
Victoria obeyed and watched him go to work. Andrew tossed his cane to her and then moved round the room slowly, scanning everything with his eyes. ‘Quinn was apprentice to a tailor, and rather promising at that.’ He picked up a piece of cloth and eyed it. ‘Looks like he was planning on branching out on his own, considering these designs.’
‘Met him once,’ Victoria heaved a sigh. ‘He wanted to look at my Scrabian clothes to see how they were made.’
‘He was a clean man, didn’t drink, kept to himself, didn’t owe anyone anything.’ Andrew threw open a few cupboards and looked inside. ‘In summary: no cause for trouble.’
Victoria mulled that over. ‘Okay, what about Chance? I’ve never seen him before.’
‘No. I don’t know him either.’ Andrew turned in a small circle and pointed to a pair of boots in the corner. ‘Heavy boots, meant for working outdoors. The size is too big for Quinn’s feet and very well used. By the looks of the black sand on them he’s been to the south.’ Andrew stared up at the ceiling and round at the walls, where various pelts were tacked. ‘Trapper. Most likely gone for months at a time. Well known with the locals in whatever area he’s in. Traded with them as well, you can tell by the wolf tooth jewellery piled up on his bedside table. So, trader with the Blaiden.’ Andrew moved to Chance’s side of the small room and rifled through his things. ‘But what would cause him to kill his friend?’
‘Maybe Quinn found out something about him?’
‘Maybe.’ Andrew pulled open a drawer on a table next to Chance’s bed. He wobbled the drawer a bit. ‘This is shorter than the actual table.’ He slid the drawer out and then reached his arm back. When he pulled his arm back out, he was holding a small red-skinned pouch. ‘Ah!’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Made of wolf hide!’ He unlaced it and Victoria moved in close to see. ‘What do we have here?’
She was shocked by what she saw. The sack was full of a familiar yellow powder. Andrew raised the cloth to his nose to smell, frowning.
‘No! Don’t!’ Victoria yelped.
Andrew paused and eyed her. ‘You recognise this?’
Victoria swallowed. ‘I think so. They look like a drug on my world. Spores.’
Andrew curiously studied the sack. ‘A drug, aye? What would the effects of said drug be?’
Victoria shifted. ‘Well, I don’t know. I stayed away from it. It made me sick. From what I’d seen it affected people completely different. They could go from really compliant to crazy. I’ve seen people do stupid stuff like jump off buildings because they didn’t think they’d get hurt when they were on it. When they came off of it, they could get pretty violent.’
Andrew nodded, interested. ‘I think we just found our killer’s motive,’ he said.
It was evening. Andrew was curled up in his customary chair next to the fireplace, playing his stringed instrument with a little more care than usual. Molly and Tollin were stars knew where and Thedric was busy dealing with the murder of the day. Apparently, Chance had gotten away, having one of the fastest sailing boats in the harbour. He’d made it out to open ocean before the guards had even gotten past the first bend in Elk Lake.
Victoria was poring over the record books of all of the disputes and problems that had happened over the past few months. It had started with nothing more than curiosity; she had wanted to see how many murders there were in the village over the year, but something had come to her attention she found disturbing.
‘Andrew, will you come look at this?’
‘What?’ he asked dully.
‘The log book.’
He made a disgusted noise and went back to playing. Victoria sighed, picked h
erself up and dropped the book in his lap.
She spoke over his protests. ‘I was curious with the murder of today so I went back to look over everything that’s happened these past few months. I noticed something odd.’
‘What?’
‘Just look about three months back till today.’
Andrew begrudgingly flipped through the book. His eyes narrowed a bit more with each page.
‘You see?’
‘There does seem to be a pattern of growing disruption, yes.’
‘There’s been more break-ins, fistfights, domestic violence and aggression than in any of the other older entries. The last murder was two years ago!’
He sat up. ‘But I don’t know what could cause that.’
‘Not me, hopefully,’ she winced.
He waved her comment away. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Your arrival and this upscale of violence is merely a coincidence.’ He froze. ‘Or is it?’
Victoria frowned. ‘You just said—’
Andrew closed his eyes. ‘I just keep thinking about those spores I found…’
She thought it over. The spores shouldn’t cause violence like this, not that she could think of. Not unless everyone was feeling the effects of withdraw. That didn’t seem possible. And how did Chance get hold of the spores in the first place? Were they from the Blaiden? And if so, how did the Blaiden get them…unless…were they connected to the pods? Those spores had to come from somewhere.
‘Of course!’ Andrew’s voice shifted to a low growl. ‘That’s why it didn’t make sense. I can’t believe I was so stupid!’
Victoria shrank back, frightened by his change. ‘What?’
Andrew’s sharp eyes were like broken glass as they fixed on her. ‘Those spores had to come from somewhere. Why did these problems only start up only after you and Tollin arrived? You’re responsible for them. They’re alien, as are you. Why?’ He wasn’t yelling, instead, his voice had grown deadly quiet. ‘Is this part of some subversive act of war, perhaps you’re not what you say you are, you’re some plant, an assassin perhaps? A scout, coming here from your dusty little planet to see exactly what riches Scottorr has to offer? Hmm?’