Sorrowfish

by Anne C Miles

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  BELL SAT IN her windowless cell, waiting for Jax. The past weeks would have been unbearable without him. Curled up on her cot, she watched the Watchers. They were unmoving as usual. If she stood and paced, they turned their heads. One was a small imp, thin and mischievous. He stood in one corner. One was a monkey with wings, perched at the ceiling. The other was above the cell door, a donkey’s head. She had named them in her first days after being moved here from the comfortable room. Sam was the imp, Tempi was the monkey, and Dane was the donkey.

  Dane hadn’t come for her yet. She tried to be furious, but all she could do was worry. The truth was, she was furious with herself. She felt absolutely useless, powerless.

  She had met chymaera, but not at an aerie. She had been blindfolded and taken to a grove. A blue-eyed male chymaera had sneered, pronouncing her unfit, never speaking directly to her at all. The grove was near the World Tree. She had seen the Tree, lights flowing up and down its length. The fog and mists normally shrouding it burned away. The cantors had rushed her to the Chapterhouse and locked her in her room. The same day, she was given these, her new quarters.

  Her prison cell.

  The first night, Jax crept in, poking his head through the corner to survey the room. He’d motioned her to silence, bidding her cover the glowstone. He had whispered promises of escape, encouragement. He said Dane had partially healed the Tree. Jax was gone as quickly as he had come, before the Watchers could report her for covering her glowstone. Since then, he came every night for a few minutes to tell her not to give up, always poking the tip of his cap through the stone. She would cover the glowstone, crawl into her cot, and he would push through the wall and report.

  She kept the glowstone covered each night until guards came to uncover it, a small rebellion. After the third night, they began to slap her. The beatings became worse each night she disobeyed them, but she persisted.

  The day he found Dane, Jax whispered they could escape. Last night, he’d said they would leave soon. Today, she waited. She would be ready.

  Bell amused herself by walking around the room to keep her muscles from stiffening, telling herself stories of home. She slept. She drew pictures in the dust on the floor. Once every two days they brought her fresh wash water. She was fed once a day. Her guard, Cosette, had been replaced by a stern battle-axe of a woman named Gerta. Gerta was a cantor with no sense of humor. She tended to Bell, but made it clear, Bell was less than human. She was refuse.

  “I’m not refuse,” she said to donkey-Dane. “She is. What kind of person allows another to be treated like this, for no crime? A crime of birth? I’m dewin but cannot hurt anyone. The chymaera said so. He said I was beyond mending. I’m useless.” She sniffed and reached for her wash bowl. She washed the blood from her face where it had been cut, a gift from last night’s beating.

  “What do you think Tempi? Am I beyond mending? Sam?”

  The monkey regarded her, his stone eyes unresponsive. The imp smiled. It always smiled. It was carved that way. Bell’s eyes widened as she saw Jax’s cap poke out above its head. He was here well before his usual time. When he emerged from the wall fully without giving her time to put out her glow, she gasped. Behind him, a girl emerged from the wall as well. She sputtered and blinked, obviously disoriented. Jax nodded at Bell.

  “It’s time to go. This is Sara, she’s fae,” he said. “Sara, we need to stop the Watchers from seeing.”

  Quickly, Sara thrust her hand into the imp’s face and twisted, removing its eyes. She smoothed the stone face flat. She climbed up the wall, doing the same to donkey-Dane. She scanned the room. Bell pointed to the winged monkey. Sara dropped from the lintel and ran up the wall, pushing her arm and hand into it to hold her. She wiped away the monkey’s eyes and mouth.

  Sara dropped to the floor and grinned. “This fae gig is fun.”

  Jax hopped up on the bed so he could look in her eyes. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ll mend,” she said. Bell squeezed his hand. “You came for me. Thank you.”

  Sara cleared her throat. “What now?”

  “Now we leave. Dane waits one floor below. We join him, get to the roof, and command a Watcher or two to fly us to safety,” said Jax.

  “Jax, Watchers cannot fly,” said Bell.

  Sara said, “They’re a bit complicated, sensitive, and seriously, way too literal. But…they fly for me.”

  “We’ll run into guards and acolytes in the corridors. I know the way, but if they attack us, we’ll need to fight. Remember what I told you, Sara,” said Jax.

  Sara’s jaw set in a grim line. “Put their heads into the stone. I heard you. I’d rather not.”

  Jax grunted. “I’d rather not as well, lass. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. We’ll just run away if we can. Off you go.”

  Sara slipped through the wall next to the door. A few moments later, it was unbarred. They crept into the hall where Gerta lay, unconscious. Bell arched an eyebrow.

  Sara shrugged. “I had aikido classes in high school.”

  Jax hopped over the large woman and took the lead, marching toward the stairwell. Another Watcher perched above the door, a gargoyle. His short wings jutted over a face so ugly it was endearing. Sara touched it and sang. “Live. Fly Like an Eagle.”

  Nothing happened. Sara’s brow wrinkled. She bit her lip.

  “It worked last time.”

  “Leave it,” said Jax

  “I need the practice.”

  He sighed heavily and scratched the back of his head. “Did you do it the same way?”

  “Oh,” said Sara. She looked into the gargoyle’s stone eyes and sang “Fly like an eagle.”

  The gargoyle shimmered and glowed as if made of blue lightning. He flapped his wings and detached from the wall, hovering near Sara. Sara fixed the ugly imp with a stern expression. “Those are the only words I know to that song. Follow and defend us if anyone tries to hurt or stop us. Got it? I don’t want to be forced to stick people’s heads into walls.”

  The gargoyle rumbled at her in response. “I shall defend you.”

  “You’re amazing,” Bell said.

  Sara blushed.

  Bell had heard fae stories, but this was not what she had expected. Fae were ethereal, capricious, otherworldly. Sara was decidedly odd and powerful, but not wise or mysterious. She looked like a normal girl in spite of her strange garb. She moved through stone like a gnome, commanded Watchers like chymaera, and used the Song like dewin. Yet Bell couldn’t imagine her commanding Jax to find a golden apple or kiss a toad.

  Bell swallowed the envy that rose within. As a dewin, she should be able to assist, not wait helplessly for others to rescue her. Stop it. You are what you are, she told herself. And there was no time for self-pity. “Amazing,” she repeated, resolving to choose thankfulness. She hurried after Jax, Sara, and the gargoyle.

  The next two Watchers got their eyes wiped flat. Sara dispatched them with efficiency. A bell tolled, ominous. Jax turned down a short stairwell into a long hallway and unbarred a third door. All of them piled inside.

  Dane was awake, struggling to get to his feet. Bell barely recognized him. His thick black hair was gone, shaved. His face had been beaten to a pulp, and he moved slowly, grimacing, obviously in terrible pain. She could see dressings for wounds peeping out of his robe’s neckline. His eyes were haunted, sunken. Even as they lighted on her, she saw terrible uncertainty and exhaustion. He was a thinner, paler shell of the confident, sweet man she knew. He had aged and lost something vital. It scared her more than any cantor ever could.

  Bell pushed past Jax and Sara, and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely. “I’ve missed you so much. We’re going to get out of this. We’ll be out soon.”

  Dane tensed, and his breath caught. Bell pulled away.

  He winced. “Sorry, I’m a bit tender yet. Acolyte discipline, you see.”

  Bell covered her mouth, horrified. “I’m so sorry.”

/>   As Dane started reassuring her, Jax interrupted. “We must leave. Now. Save your moony-eyes for later.”

  “What’s the plan?” asked Dane. “Shouldn’t we wait for Bren?”

  The single glowstone cast shadows of them on the cell walls. The small gargoyle hovered behind Sara. Its wings flapped a breeze in the little cell, moving the stale air. Sara stepped back to lean against the wall and whispered to the gargoyle, “Sit. Wait.”

  Jax shook his head. “We had an accident. They’ll be coming for you and Bell, it’s time to get out. The brother can follow if he truly wishes. My priority is you. We’ll go to the roof and fly away.”

  “You know where to go?” Dane asked.

  “I’ve a good idea. I’ve been watching for weeks. The bell that just tolled means they’re on their way to their next assignment. We need to wait a few minutes,” said Jax. He knelt and drew in the dust at their feet. “We’re here.” He pointed to the middle of the rectangle. “Two stories below ground level. We need to get here.” He pointed to the southernmost edge of the rectangle. “On the roof. This section is unused. We can take a stairwell here. Once we’re on the roof, we fly away from the Tree, north into the forest. If we’re lucky, we can make it to Bridgeton or Sahxe by tomorrow.”

  “Do you think it’s safe yet?”

  The bells chimed again. This time they rang with urgency and did not stop. Bell shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like safe. We need to move,” she said.

  Dane’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “We will wait for Brother Bren.”

  Jax stared at him and sputtered. “That cantor will truss you up like a Firstday goose. Look at what he has done to you already! You’ve been whipped within an inch of your life. We need to go.”

  Dane shook his head, wincing. “No, he won’t betray us. He healed me as well.”

  “A ploy to gain your trust,” said Jax. He snorted. “He likely wanted to use Sara here for some nefarious task, and he tricked you into grounding her.” The gnome’s cap quivered with indignation.

  “The rest of you can go. I will wait for Bren,” said Dane. “I’ll meet you on the roof.“

  “Wait a second. This guy whipped you? And you trust him?” Sara asked. “He made Bell lose her sanity and imprisoned her. She’s been beaten as well. Look at her. Not to mention, he nearly killed you. But you believe him.”

  “I choose to trust him,” Dane said. “I would rather trust him and be wrong than not give him a chance to prove he has grown. Everyone deserves a chance, even cantors. Some are not truly evil, they’ve just believed lies. It takes rare courage to accept that you’ve been deceived, and to move forward. I’ve seen that courage in Bren. I forgive him.”

  Sara frowned and wrinkled her nose, her eyes thoughtful.

  Bell searched Dane’s face. She knew that look. He was not going to change his mind. It didn’t matter what Jax or anyone else thought. She sighed. Turning to Jax, she said, “You need to listen to him, deema.”

  Before Jax could answer, the door flew open. A bearded cantor stood there, filling the doorway. Two other cantors stood behind him. The cantors held censers and were canting together. Thick Essence rose, wafting into the little cell. The cantor’s voice rang out before anyone could move. “Stop. You will come with me immediately, all of you. If any of you attempts to escape, Bell will be purified. The effects will be permanent.”

  Bell didn’t wait. She was nearest the door. Her head swam as she rushed at the cantor, furious. “No, I am finished with this. You will not use me again!” Putting all of her weight behind it, she backhanded the cantor in the jaw and pushed past him, kicking, scratching, and elbowing the other two. She held her breath, grabbing the censer chains and jerked, smashing them against the walls. They bounced off of the stone with a ringing sound and flew open, spilling their contents.

  Sara and Jax were right behind her. Jax began hopping on the burning incense to put it out. Sara pushed the first cantor with all of her strength. His head sunk into the wall. She kept pushing. His body shook and twitched and went utterly still. The other two cantors stared at her, horrified, and began to back away, still Canting. A bright light appeared, pulsing between them. Sara turned and yelled at her gargoyle. “Defend us!”

  The gargoyle whizzed overhead and flew straight for the cantors, claws outstretched. They turned and ran. The light vanished.

  Bell’s vision blurred. She blinked to clear it, but her head was swimming. She coughed and gasped. “I need air,” she said, stumbling backward. Jax was at her side instantly. He took her hand and dragged her down the corridor, speaking softly as if to a child.

  “You’ll be all right, my Bell. Just breathe the fresh air. That’s it. You’ll be fine.”

  Behind him, another tall, bald cantor turned the corner, trailed by a chymaera. His eyes flicked over the scene, taking in the censers, Bell, and the others. “I’ve come to get you out.” He pushed past them into Dane’s cell and grabbed the thin blanket from Dane’s pallet, emerging a moment later. “There will be more of them. Do not inhale the Essence,” he said. He began ripping the blanket into strips, handing one to each of them. “Tie these around your nose and mouth and follow me. Zonah has disabled the Watchers, for now.”

  He sidestepped the cantor’s body, brushing past Jax and Bell to rejoin the chymaera, who stood watching in the main corridor. Dane followed him, tying the fabric as he walked, Sara close behind him. Bell clutched the strip of fabric in her hand, staring at it, then tied it around her face. It was hard to think, to focus. She stood there, unsure, until Jax took her hand again and led her after the others.

  Sara stood between two Watchers, their wings flapping gently. They rippled with energy formed from blue lightning. The others were climbing on their backs. Dane and Bell gripped the lightning-laced ridges on the mane of a winged lion. Jax was clambering up the other grotesque, a winged dragon that held Brother Bren and the chymaera, Zonah. She didn’t know if they would fall if something happened to her. It was more responsibility than she cared to think about.

  She was so intent, thinking about how to drive two Watchers, she almost didn’t hear them coming. A scraping noise caught her attention. Cantors in black robes poured out of the hatch, some with censers. They all chanted like Benedictine monks. Some carried metal staves shaped like large tuning forks. Others carried handbells. She saw white lights forming in the surrounding air. She froze.

  Sara couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t time. She was going to crash and kill them all. She could just go home. She could just…fade.

  Lightning crackled. Sara couldn’t move. She looked at the others, wide-eyed. They were depending on her. Bell’s face was expectant. Confident.She thinks I’m amazing. Dane’s eyes met hers, full of compassion and understanding. Sara wanted to scream.What if I’m not good enough? What if we fall?

  Dane’s voice rang out over the roar of thunder, “Sara, you can do this. We’ll fly. Trust the Song. You’ve been chosen to help us.”

  Time stood still.

  Trust the Song.

  She wasn’t sure about the Song. But she trusted Dane. He was right about Brother Bren. He was very...wise? Kind? Something.

  Sara took a deep breath and pointed at the dragon. “Obey the gnome as you would me,” she said. She ran to the lion and mounted in front of Bell. “Obey Dane, as you would me!”

  Lightning flashed toward them. It hit the wall and dissipated. Whoa. They were throwing lightning bolts!

  Sara smelled ozone.

  “Fly!” Sara yelled. “Get us out of here, fly as fast as you can!”

  The air crackled as they rose. Silvered arrows whizzed past, volleys sent in desperation. One narrowly missed Sara. Then they were soaring through mists.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  “WHERE ARE WE stopping again? Bridgeton?” said Trystan as they drove their cart out of the forest. The sun was setting. The trees cast elongated shadows, gnarled fingers reaching for them.

  “No, Sahxe. It’s an actual town,
so we won’t have to camp. A logging town, lots of burly woodmen itching to gamble here, much better than Bridgeton,” Tabor said. “One word of warning, however. Do not get into a tavern brawl. They tend to become destructive, very quickly.”

  Gint, sitting in the seat behind Trystan, leaned forward and nodded knowingly. The boy had grown several inches since Trystan had first made his acquaintance, but still looked younger than his age. “Tha’s the voice o’ experience talkin’. The miller’s daughter woddint it?”

  Tabor drew himself up to his full seated height and flicked the reins. “I don’t recall.”

  The trio had opted for commoner’s garb for the journey, rather than bringing a group of soldiers to guard them. There was no curing Gint’s accent, so it inspired their disguises. Tabor insisting the boy would be invaluable once they arrived in Bestua. Trystan was mystified as to how the scamp could help them, but agreed. He enjoyed Gint’s company.

  As they topped a low rise, the village spread before them. A stone bridge crossed a stream. Huge old trees half-hid a sawmill, but the water wheel was unmistakable. Beyond the mill, cobbled streets lined a central village green. Trystan glimpsed a Conclave Chapterhouse, an inn, a smithy and several shops as they crossed the bridge.

  Gint saw to their horse and cart while Tabor arranged for rooms. The inn was crowded, with a large common room and polished wood floors. Trystan saw no Watchers and breathed a sigh of relief. He had only seen one in the town thus far, next to the Chapterhouse. Six square tables set up for stones games lined one wall. These folk loved their wagers.

  The innkeeper, round cheeked and portly, nodded at Trystan’s lute case. “Give us songs, and I’ll give you free ale and dinner.”

  Trystan hesitated. He hadn’t seen a cantor, but the presence of a Chapterhouse made playing here a risk. Tabor, dressed as an elderly bespectacled manservant, decided for him. “Of course he will play,” he said, gesturing grandly to the stage. “And I’ll wager it will be the most amazing tunes you’ve ever heard.”