Dreamers Do Lie

by Megan Cutler

  The harder she tried to banish that gravelly voice, the more the command consumed her conscious thoughts. Remember what? Could one of her memories undo this sorry situation?

  Save it for later. She focused on her hands as she unwound the rags binding Arimand's wound. She'd torn them from the base of her cloak, as she tore a new set of strips every morning. If morning it was. Without the sky, it was difficult to tell. Each hour, each day, passed much like the last.

  She peeled the bottom layer of cloth from Arimand's skin with care. She didn't want to reopen the wound. It shrank a little more every day, their only blessing. Removing the arrowhead had been a terrible ordeal, and Arimand hadn't been able to sleep through most of it. She couldn't forget the soldier's screams as Eselt plunged his fingers into the bloody hole, seeking stray arrow fragments, lest they fester and cause the wound to rot.

  Either the arrow hadn't pierced anything vital, or the strange magic governing their immortal bodies allowed time to heal the damage. Arimand grew stronger every time he woke.

  They had used the last of their water to clean the wound before binding it, leaving nothing to cleanse either wound or rags now. But Kaylie saw no sign of infection and contented herself with winding a new set of rags across the mending flesh. When her cloak ran out of fabric, she'd tear new dressings from a blanket. It wasn't as if they needed such things now.

  Every day, they pressed hands and ears to the top of their wooden cocoon, listening for fire and testing for heat. No one wanted to risk flooding the compartment by fiddling with the hatch. Kaylie hoped, as they all did, they had successfully passed beneath the wall. Their collective weight, combined with the diminished size of their capsule, should have carried them beneath the river's surface, however briefly. For all they knew, they had bounced off the wall's underwater frame and drifted back downriver. They could be stuck beneath the wall. The demons might be waiting for them to flee before making their next attack. Even if they had completed the crossing, no one knew for sure they would bob back to the river's surface. Uncertainty made them all restless.

  Kaylie eased Arimand back onto his side, fluffing the meager pile of rags that served as his pillow. He murmured something, but drifted deeper into sleep. With a fond smile, she brushed stray hair from his forehead. Had she ever known a man as strong and gallant during her mortal life? He had faced a demon with fearless tenacity not once, but twice.

  The demon. She shuddered. What did it want her to remember? For all her conversations with Arimand, she still recalled little more than flashes. Scraping Corvala's history from her memory had seemed a triumph, but it hadn't opened any floodgates.

  She bent her knees as Thail passed. His long fingers trailed across the low roof and he muttered something under his breath. It was a habit he seemed to have. When he reached the end of the small space, he slid his hand down one of the walls and continued his journey. No doubt he'd pass several times before Eselt ordered him to settle.

  Wardel stood atop a crate on the far side of the room, ear pressed to the ceiling. He stayed that way for several minutes before he dismounted and held a whispered conference with Eselt. The clan leader shook his head, ending the discussion.

  The scene repeated three times at uneven intervals, until Kaylie wondered if she was trapped in a dream. During the third conference, Eselt's reaction changed. Arimand, awake to witness the excitement, crawled across the room to join the conversation.

  Despite the misery of their situation; the unbearable heat, the stench of unwashed bodies, the lack of food and water, and the generally low morale, Kaylie had enjoyed Arimand's company since their descent beneath the river. She slept curled against him, in case he needed something. With so little space in the hold, no one questioned the arrangement. Not even Eselt.

  When the warrior woke, they conversed. Since she had little to share, Kaylie asked Arimand about his life before the war. About his hopes and aspirations. She didn't ask about his death, nor the circumstances that damned him. She hated to be grateful for the ending of a life, but death had brought him to her and she could not have managed this quest without him. The tales he told her of growing up on his mother's farm transported her away from the misery of this voyage and its endless wait for doom or salvation. They didn't speak of what transpired in the city, and Kaylie preferred to keep it that way.

  Arimand shuffled back to rejoin her as Eselt mounted Wardel's crate. “We're going to try the hatch,” he announced. “Everyone, move to the far side of the ship. Just in case.

  “They think it's been safe for three days,” Arimand whispered, gingerly placing his back against the wall. “But Eselt didn't want to take any risks.”

  As the weight shifted toward one end of the vessel, it tilted. Eselt's crate slid out from underneath him, almost dumping him off his feet. He and Wardel used ropes to anchor themselves near the hatch. With luck, their position had lifted it further above the surface, but Kaylie couldn't help worrying they were about to sink.

  Light poured through the doorway as Eselt cracked it open. The acrid scent of smoke filled the small space. But no fire spilled through the opening. A small cheer rose from every throat.

  The crew returned to their former positions, leveling the small vessel. Eselt disappeared through the open hatch and Wardel followed him. Grumbling under his breath, Kimuli trailed after them.

  Arimand laid a hand on Kaylie's shoulder. “I don't think I can climb those rickety stairs just yet. Why don't you go have a look outside and tell me what you see?”

  “I'll come with you,” Dwenba offered. “My legs could use a good stretch.”

  Kaylie bit her bottom lip, hesitant to abandon her guardian. But he was capable of taking care of himself now, and Dwenba was already on her feet. Whatever waited on the other side of that hatch, Kaylie could use a breath of fresher air and a chance to stand up straight.

  The outer hatch lay at the top of a thin set of stairs built into the far wall. The river would have burned them away if they'd been outside, but the cramped interior left room for only narrow, stubby planks. Kaylie crawled on her hands and feet, testing each step before she committed her weight to it.

  The top of the craft was wide and flat. It had started roughly circular but the fire had worn the edges lumpy. Someone had squelched the remaining fire, leaving the planks scorched. The vessel swayed lightly as she stood, and Kaylie threw her arms wide to keep her balance.

  It was dark. Hell had no stars. She remembered the stars, of course, and clouds and rain, and proper sunshine. Did Heaven have such things?

  She crossed the small deck and joined Eselt and his lieutenants as they squinted into the darkness. The fires of the Phlegethon cast surprisingly little light beyond its shoreline. Yet the brightness dazzled their vision as they searched for shapes and movement in the night.

  “There!” Kimuli waved a hand to the left. “That fire isn't from the river.”

  The group tried to follow his gaze. Kaylie couldn't see anything.

  Wardel placed one hand just above his eyes. He stayed that way for several minutes before he nodded. “Looks like a torch.”

  Kaylie rubbed her eyes but, still, she saw nothing.

  “More over there.” Eselt gestured to the right.

  Blinking, Kaylie tried again, staring into the darkness until her eyes stung. It took several attempts to locate one of the distant flickers. Spotting the first revealed a line of similar lights. As their craft continued upriver, heavy shapes blocked the torches, tracing odd slopes and silhouettes along the shore. High walls. Slanted roofs.

  “Castles,” Thail whispered.

  “I concur,” Wardel said, lowering his hand. “From the look of the formidable defenses, I would guess fortresses.”

  “The prisons.” Eselt's voice was grim.

  With a start, Kaylie recalled the map Arimand drew a lifetime ago. It was hard to imagine anything worse than the city. But there were supposed to be demons in this ring of Hell. Demons who tormented the residents of the pri
sons for the sins they committed in life. Kaylie's stomach heaved.

  “Back inside,” Eselt ordered. “We'll give everyone a chance to stretch their legs before we set watches.” The decreased size of the deck wouldn't accommodate more than half a dozen people at one time.

  Kaylie didn't linger. She hurried back to the corner she shared with Arimand and reported what they had seen.

  “It's about what I expected,” Arimand replied, face grim. “I wish my informant had told me more about this ring. If we're lucky, both the prisoners and their guards will be too involved in each other to take notice of us.”

  “We didn't see anyone outside,” Kaylie said. “But it's still dark. I suppose we'll have to see what the day brings.”

  They conversed for a little while, politely dancing around their uncertainty. Then Arimand took a nap and Kaylie curled up beside him. She expected sleep to remain elusive, but the soft, steady cadence of Arimand's breath eased her into oblivion.

  She woke slowly. Arimand was gone but the space beside her was still warm. If something dire had happened, someone would have awakened her. She lingered, squeezing her eyes closed. If only she could forget their current predicament, ignore the upcoming challenges and turn off her thoughts. But sleep refused to return.

  With a sigh, she sat up and glanced around.

  “He's gone up on deck to stretch his legs, my lady,” Dwenba called from nearby. “I tried to warn him off, but you know how men can be. A few extra hours and he thinks he's healed.”

  Kaylie smiled. “I'd better go check on him.”

  She took the stairs slowly. From the top, it only took a moment to locate her charge. He and Eselt sat on the edge of the upper deck, whispering urgently to each other. Night still clung to the shoreline. Had she missed a whole day?

  “How do you fare?” she asked to announce her presence. Both men looked at her.

  “I'm well,” Arimand replied. “Better than I've felt in ages.”

  “I'm not sure you should be climbing yet. If you open that wound again-”

  “You and Dwenba will each take a chunk of my hide, I'm sure.” Arimand chuckled. “Please forgive me, my lady. You're an excellent nurse, but I was a soldier. I'm used to pushing myself beyond reasonable limits, and our circumstances remain extraordinary. The lull did wonders for me, I assure you.”

  “I'm still going to keep an eye on you.” She planted her hands on her hips but didn't have Dwenba's gift for making herself look stern. She glanced toward the dark shore. “How long did I sleep?”

  The two men shared a glance before Arimand answered. “Several hours.”

  “Shouldn't the sun be up by now?”

  Arimand motioned for her to join them and she knelt on his other side, swinging her legs over the edge of the deck, mindful of the flames licking the lower planks. Behind her, Thail anxiously paced the rim of the deck. Wardel perched on the far side, observing the opposite bank.

  “We're all a little concerned.” As Arimand spoke, Kaylie noticed several things she'd overlooked; the intensity of Arimand's steel grey eyes, the handsome line forged by his prominent cheekbones, the delicate way loose hair graced his shoulders. “My informant didn't mention weather in this ring of Hell, so we'll just have to wait a few more hours and see what happens.”

  The tips of Kaylie's ears burned. Had she really let her mind wander to such frivolous things at a time like this? She turned her gaze outward. As before, it took several minutes for her eyes to adjust to the strange juxtaposition of bright light and pitch black.

  When the fortress outlines came into focus, she noticed a second set of shadows moving between torches. Her breath caught in her throat.

  “They don't seem to have noticed us.” Arimand's fingers brushed her arm, offering reassurance.

  Behind them, Eselt grunted.

  Kaylie ignored him. “When did you first see them?”

  “About an hour ago,” the clan leader rasped. “Maybe two. It's hard to tell without the sun. We aren't sure how far away those torches are, but we don't think these demons are as big as our former stalker.”

  “I don't suppose it'll matter if they take an interest in us.”

  Arimand mustered a weary smile. “You might want to wait inside. Try not to let all this worry you too much. I still intend to get you safely to that exit. Eselt and I have just been discussing some information I picked up while I was looking for you in the city. Hopefully, it's going to help us navigate this ring.”

  Kaylie stood slowly and made her way back to the staircase. She knew the impossibility of their situation, knew how lucky they were to have come this far. Their destination still seemed hopelessly out of reach. Yet, when Arimand spoke like that, she believed him.

  ~*~*~*~

  “Going ashore is out of the question,” Eselt growled, fighting to keep his voice low.

  “We need supplies,” Kimuli retorted through clenched teeth. “This fire will be eating holes in our feet soon.”

  “Have to wonder what keeps it at bay,” Thail muttered. No one paid him any mind.

  “Have you seen the number of demons prowling out there?” Eselt jabbed a finger toward the hatch.

  “If they haven't noticed us crossing the bright light of the river, how will they see us moving through the shadows on shore?”

  The conference was meant to be private, whispered among the clan leader and his remaining lieutenants, but Kimuli didn't seem to understand quiet. The rest of the crew pretended not to notice as the argument continued. Kaylie listened with a strange sort of detachment, hardly caring about their conclusions. The more they spoke about food, the greater the fire in her belly seemed to burn, yearning for something to fill the empty space.

  “We won't encounter demons in the fourth ring,” Arimand said, impatience giving his voice a hard edge. “And there will probably be opportunities to forage when we get there.”

  “Probably doesn't inspire my confidence. And we will need to cross the Cocytus.” Kimuli slapped one hand against the floor, startling several nearby observers. “Shouldn't we save the remaining wood for that?” When no one answered, Kimuli continued, made brazen by his perceived victory. “At least it won't matter if we run out of wood after that.”

  “Our destination isn't on the Phlegethon,” Arimand protested. “There's no point in hoarding supplies that are more useful now.”

  “So he says,” Thail muttered in a sing-song tone. “But how would he know? He's never been there.” Again, no one paid much attention, though Arimand curled his lip with disgust.

  “Then we should travel down the Cocytus, shouldn't we?” Kimuli persisted. “You said something about staying on the rivers as long as possible.”

  “We may have to-”

  “See?” Kimuli interrupted with a smug grin.

  “Don't let that ego swell your head too much,” Eselt rumbled. “You still ain't in charge here.”

  “Is there any point in continuing this debate?” Wardel interjected, calm as always. “We've seen no evidence of life, either plant or animal, on the shores of this ring.”

  “There's bound to be plenty of supplies.” Kimuli waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the shore. “Just look at those forts-”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Eselt delivered a swift back-handed blow to the side of Kimuli's head. “Raid demon protected fortresses? After one of those beasts decimated our crew?”

  “None of us have eaten in weeks! How are we even going to walk if we don't regain our strength? You and Arimand insisted that demon in the city was special, so shouldn't we be able to handle the weaker creatures?”

  “In our current states?” Wardel replied. “We don't even know how many there are. Isn't that all the more reason to remain on the river?”

  “We can't stay on the river forever,” Kimuli grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

  From Arimand's description of events on the shoreline, Kaylie wanted nothing to do with this ring of Hell. After hours of peering silent
ly into the darkness, a sharp noise pierced the stillness. The fortresses lowered their gates. Chained prisoners marched single file from the dungeons into the night. No one knew what the demons forced them to do. Their screams were evidence enough of the horror. Kaylie could hear them from here, even over the roar of the fire outside.

  When the sun failed to rise, the crew devised a method of finger taps they could use to mark time. Eselt calculated four hours before he gave up, but the activity of the prisoners convinced them all. They should be well into the day by now, even accounting for their skewed sense of time. The sun did not rise here.

  Arimand hoped the river's light would shield them from notice, but it was a thin hope, based on ignorance of the demon wardens' abilities. The endless hours with nothing to distract Kaylie from contemplating their position brought everything into sharper focus. They were helpless, adrift in the harbor of good fortune, waiting for the inevitable shift in the tide. Even Arimand's steadfast convictions couldn't change that.

  “The demon from the city is probably still after us,” Arimand cautioned, perhaps trying to shift the subject.

  Kimuli sniffed. “We don't know the river would protect us from it. It scaled the damned wall like butter.”

  “But we do know it would catch us faster on land,” Wardel said. “The fire no doubt masks our scent. As soon as we step on land, we leave a beacon for it to track.”

  A flurry of footsteps pounded across the upper deck and a head peeked through the open hatch, calling for Eselt. The clan leader scrambled to his feet and darted up the stairs with surprising grace. Wardel and Kimuli hurried in his wake. Arimand paused to lay a hand on Kaylie's shoulder.

  “It might be best if you wait here. We don't want the demons to notice you.”

  Kaylie didn't intend to argue.

  Dwenba leaned forward as Arimand ascended the stairs but, from this angle, they couldn't see outside. “Perhaps they caught a glimpse of the sun?”