by Jason Letts
“Or into one,” Roselyn replied before suddenly shaking her head. “But I don’t want this out of pity. I’m very capable on my own.”
“OK, then don’t think of it like that. There wouldn’t be any chance for pity if not for the effect of your charm. Now run along before you say something to ruin the idea that I’ve saved you from some otherwise inescapable hardship.”
Roselyn matched his smile and thanked him, fluttering her eyelashes. She turned and left, but she had only taken a few steps when she saw Yannick leaning against the wall near the entrance of the Darmen Exchange office. He had accumulated a few more metal plates, slowly rebuilding his clothing to what it used to be.
“How do I look?” she asked him. The sun glittered off the light blue morsel.
“Dangerous,” he replied, and she laughed.
“That’s not what I was going for.”
“Hey, you hear anything about Mira?” he asked.
“No, I haven’t. Nothing from anyone who’s left town. I’m sure she’s fine. Why, did you hear something?”
Yannick shook his head. He scanned the crowd, and Roselyn got the impression their conversation had ended. She slipped away to the back of the courtyard and the stairs that led down to Corey’s offices. Though she brought the stone, she didn’t exactly feel she had done anything special to get it. Maybe Corey knew he would just give it to her. Opening the door, she walked through the office into what had come to feel like a second home.
“Corey is waiting for you in the conference room,” Natalie said.
Changing directions, she backtracked to the conference room door. Through it, she joined Corey in the underground room with the long table and candles on the walls. A guard stood next to him, the same guard who had escorted Mira and the others on their way out of town.
“Congratulations,” Corey applauded. “You succeeded admirably.”
“You weren’t kidding when you said we would start off easy. He practically threw the thing at me. Is there something you’re keeping from me?”
“Nothing at all. Just be aware there are more powers hidden within objects than you realize. You may even find your own skills are transferable. But if you’re complaining things are too easy, we can certainly remedy that. Do you know him?” Corey asked, referring to the guard.
“No, I don’t. Hello.”
The guard nodded politely. He had a kind face that made Roselyn wonder about his effectiveness at being a guard. Corey cleared his throat, sending a signal to the guard. The guard’s face suddenly rearranged into a horribly disturbing formation. The mouth curved upward through the face in the shape of an “S.” Settling into the curves, one eye grew large while the other shrank. The nostril holes allowed a clear view into the inside of his head.
“Ahh!” Roselyn screamed. She looked away and covered her eyes. Peeking, she saw his face had returned to normal. “How about we don’t do that again?”
“He is going to walk up into the marketplace and try to cause a panic. If nothing gets in the way, he will have no trouble succeeding. So far you’ve practiced creating emotion through song, and now you will attempt to quell it. Follow him around, and make sure things up there don’t get out of hand.”
Listening to Corey, Roselyn felt a knot grow in her stomach about using her gift. She still felt fine, but the thought of passing out again made her tense.
“The present has no relationship to the past unless we join them in our minds. Let your recent misfortune go and trust in your spirit’s place in the web of the universe.”
After Corey finished, the guard put plugs into his ears and started for Roselyn and the door. Realizing the effect of her song might take longer to work than his scary face, she didn’t wait for him to reach her to jump for the door, cross the office space, and ascend the stone steps to the courtyard.
Sensing the guard following behind, she stopped in front of the crowd. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she opened her mouth and began to sing. Despite her own concern, she poured calmness into her song and tried to let it affect her as much as those around her. The guard brushed by, and Roselyn could tell with just a glance he had disfigured himself again.
A few people close by spotted the gory arrangement. Cringes ravaged their faces and they opened their mouths to scream, but nothing came out. Soon the shock and horror faded from their faces completely. Relief washed over Roselyn, who followed the guard through the crowd with the notes of her song passing through her lips every second. The guard reared his ghastly countenance in full view of everyone who passed by, but they would do little more than avert their eyes.
“What would you like?” one woman asked him when he stopped at a cart. His teeth appeared to swim along his face, slipping into his nose and popping out again through an eye socket. The woman seemed perfectly indifferent to him. The guard pointed to a pencil and handed the woman the appropriate amount of money. He took the pencil and passed it through an ear under his chin and up into a part of his gummy mouth.
“Have a nice day,” the woman said.
Roselyn and the guard wound through the crowd, but soon it became obvious he would have no luck scaring people out of their minds on this occasion. They turned back for the stairwell to Corey’s office. As he took his first step down, Roselyn concluded her song. He turned back quickly, making Roselyn brace herself, but his face had returned to normal.
“It was nice to feel so comfortable out there,” he said.
“I’ll let you know how long my nightmares last,” Roselyn groaned.
The sun setting behind their backs after another day of wandering through the hilly forests north of the Darmen plain, Flip Widget and his shadow searched out a place to make camp. This area of forest looked particularly overgrown. Trees and bushes left little room for walking, and their density wore on the pair’s patience.
In addition to the pack she had carried since leaving her parents behind in Corey Outpost, Mira now had to carry a sack full of copper scraps, a pickaxe, and a pair of farm pliers. She sometimes used the tools as one would a walking stick. She’d imagined the constant travel and movement of life in the woods would become easier over time, but it hadn’t thus far.
Something caught Widget’s attention, and he stopped abruptly, almost causing Mira to crash into him. He turned and tiptoed into the bushes. Mira stopped and waited until he waved for her to follow a moment later. She ducked into the foliage and crawled toward Widget, who sat behind a porous hedge.
She could see a flickering light shining from the other side. Setting the tools down while minding his instructions to be silent, Mira leaned around a large leaf to see what he had found for herself. A bald, heavyset man tended a fire, prodding it awkwardly with a stick. A few bags rested against a mossy log behind him, brimming with food.
Casting a sidelong glance at Widget, she caught his piercing eyes surveying the scene before him. She saw a cold cunning in his face, and it made her wonder.
“Here’s what we’re going to do…” he whispered, without taking his eyes away. But at that moment a rustle came from elsewhere in the woods, and someone joined the portly fellow at the fire. Mira turned her head to look, and her mouth dropped open. Widget finally turned his head to Mira as she began to rise and walk forward through the brush.
“Vern?” she stammered. Puzzled voices remarked over her movement before she stepped out into the firelight. To her astonishment, she found her friend standing before her. Will and Cybil approached from the right. Their obvious amazement erupted into pleasant relief when they recognized their new guest.
“Is that really you, Mira?” Vern asked in complete disbelief.
“I never would have thought,” Mira gushed. Soon all parties had risen to their feet and the foursome surrounded Mira with a welcoming flurry of hugs and smiles. Even Cybil was excited about Mira’s sudden arrival, although they had met only once. Together with Will and Vern, she hastily introduced Mira to Westley.
“What are you doing all the way out here
in the middle of nowhere?” Mira asked.
“It’s normal to take a trip and rough it for a bit during training,” Westley assured her.
“And we thought a change of scenery might help so we tagged along,” Will said.
“Does that mean…?” Mira paused.
“No, no, everything is going good,” Will said.
The glow of their initial greetings fading, the campers began to take stock of Mira. Seeing her alone and empty-handed raised some obvious questions in their minds.
“So did you ever find that guy you were looking for, Flip Widget?” Vern asked.
It struck Mira that Widget hadn’t been involved in any of the greetings, and he hadn’t even followed her out of the bushes.
“Yes, he’s right over here,” she said, but saying so made her question whether it were still true. He could have easily disappeared somewhere. Her bag might be gone as well. It would make perfect sense for him to do that, she conjectured.
“How is he working out?” Will asked, as Mira turned back to the woods.
“Really good!” she lied quickly, pulling aside a branch.
Stepping out of the firelight, she could see Widget standing reluctantly in the shadows. He pretended to go through his pack. The others caught sight of him as well, and they offered friendly cheers for him to join them. Reluctantly, he gave in and stepped toward the small crowd. His weak, crooked smile beneath his gray features made him look like a man much older than his years, but he shook hands and nodded politely enough.
“I do believe I know this man,” Westley said. “Did you used to work as a carpenter? I’m talking about a long, long time ago.”
“You must have me mistaken with somebody else,” Widget corrected.
“Well, no matter. Please join us. We’ve got plenty to eat. What brings you out this way?” Westley inquired, mustering plenty of friendly cheer. He started to dig through the bags of provisions while the others took seats on logs around the fire. From the looks of it, they must have spent all day carving out this little niche in the bushy forest.
“I found him a few days after leaving Darmen. We’ve been training and trekking through the forest ever since. We’ve accomplished a lot and I’m feeling stronger than ever,” Mira explained. It felt so good to be around her old friends. A renewed optimism came to her that could trump anything.
“Ever since? Wow! You must be sick of it and ready for the end,” Will said.
“No, I’m getting used to it. I’ve been learning so much. It doesn’t really matter where we are,” Mira replied.
“That’s great to hear, because I’ve been wondering,” Will smiled. “It’s difficult when people leave and you can’t hear from them.”
“Yeah, I understand,” Mira sympathized. “I’ve been wondering about everyone from home. Do you know what anyone is doing? How’s Aoi?”
Vern and Will exchanged glances.
“It’s been weeks since I’ve heard her screaming,” Vern said, and Will nodded. “I used to think that would only happen when she stopped breathing, but now I don’t know.”
“I haven’t heard from anybody else either,” Will added.
“That’s not unusual,” Cybil chimed in. “Everyone goes their separate ways and then you’ll regroup and get ready for bigger challenges.”
“That’s right!” Vern spoke up. “Mira, are you going to be ready for the Rite at Shadow Mountain?”
Mira deferred to Widget, who sat silently on the edge.
“It’s hard to say. We’ve still got a month left and a lot can happen. I don’t know if I’d be able to send you away if I didn’t think you could make it on your own,” Widget said, which made Westley laugh.
“Don’t I know it. Six months pass in a flash, and I barely got started! Then I have to wave goodbye to some dewy-eyed kid who doesn’t have a fish’s chance on land…Oh, no. I don’t mean you, Vern,” Westley said, clearing his throat.
“Yeah…well,” Vern cut in. “I have learned some new techniques, and I think I’ll have a chance when it comes down to it. It’s so hard to say when there’ll be so many people involved. Anybody could get lucky and make it to the top first.” He spoke as if peering into a dream. “How wonderful it would be to walk away from the Rite a star, someone important who everyone turns to for guidance and results. It’s the quickest way to make a name for yourself at Shade Base Camp.”
Mira could see herself in his words. Winning the Rite was the natural first step in her goal to rescue her sister. She couldn’t think about it without closing her eyes for a moment and making a silent wish.
“Come help me with this,” Westley beckoned Vern, snapping him from his daze. They began to arrange a few pans over the fire for cooking.
“I need to be good enough to save my sister,” Mira said. “And the race up this mountain will be the perfect way to measure my progress.”
“Just make sure you don’t get yourself seriously hurt up there. You’ll need all the strength and health you can hold on to when the real fighting starts,” Cybil warned.
“That reminds me,” Vern mentioned while fumbling with some eggs. “We’ve got to be thinking more seriously about what we’re going to do when we arrive on the battlefield. I stumbled upon these Darmen Elite guys having a secret meeting in the middle of the night. They’re all trying to come up with strategy and information. We need to be doing that stuff too.”
“Do you mean they’re training together at night?” Cybil asked.
“Not so much. I only heard a little bit before the meeting ended and they caught me, but they’re scouring the city for information on the army’s battle strategies and plans,” Vern said, raising Cybil’s eyebrows.
“How strange is that, Westley? I’ve never heard of anything like that before. I guess it doesn’t do any harm as long as it doesn’t detract from their training.”
“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me,” Will said. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how this war seems so distant, but it’s really not. The Sunfighters showed up to get us in Corey Outpost, and Cybil and I found one of their uniforms in the river near Darmen. I’m convinced it belongs to an escaped prisoner trying to get back to his friends. It’s pretty crazy.”
“You young’uns certainly don’t have it easy. That’s all I have to say,” Westley mused, sticking the eggs with a fork. “For generations the Rite’s been just for fun, but since the war started a decade ago it’s gotten violent and ugly.”
Facing out into the darkness, Widget appeared barely conscious of the others, but he heard enough to make him turn back around and shoot a glance to his shadow.
“Mira, the answer.”
“The two events are related. The uniform you found is from a spy who dropped it in the river before infiltrating Darmen Elite to dig up military secrets and feed them to the enemy,” Mira explained.
“Whoa!” Vern exclaimed amid gasps as her story began to click. Satisfied, Widget again turned his back on the group. They all sat in silent consideration.
“This one guy at the meeting was really pressing the rest to go out and get information. He could be a spy, but everyone seemed to know him,” Vern said.
“And it makes sense a spy would need to get rid of his uniform to stay for a while, but is the guy just walking around naked somewhere?” Will added.
“It’s absolutely a possibility that should be taken into consideration,” Westley said. “Why would they wait for you to show up to the battlefield? Who knows what’ll happen to everyone in Darmen Elite once the spy’s twisted them for information?”
Vern and Will gave each other a look and a nod before exchanging the same with Mira.
“We’re on it,” Vern said. “But it might be tough with those snobs, getting it through their thick heads they’ve been duped. If we screw it up, they’ll all be attacking us to defend him.”
Vern mentioned getting caught in the tunnel, “all of those hostile faces glaring down at me. If they’d decided to make me pay fo
r it, there would’ve been no way for me to escape.
“Yeah, we’ll need to be careful,” Will added, cringing as though he’d just been struck.
“You’d better hope Mira is right about it being a spy too,” Cybil said. “They might not be too happy about you getting into their business if you make a mistake and there’s nothing. Plus you’ll look pretty foolish.”
Widget let out a short chuckle at her words, and Cybil pursed her lips in reply. Westley went back to his bags and started fishing around for plates.
“Wow, this looks so good! I can’t remember the last time I had fresh bread,” Mira cooed.
An orange slipped out of the bag and rolled onto the ground. Mira immediately jumped up in a burst of excitement and snatched the fruit before it even stopped rolling.
“I would kill for an orange. Can I have it? Please!” she begged.
“Sure,” Westley consented, chuckling in delight.
Widget jerked around to see what she had in her hands. “Mira, put that down right now!” he ordered.
Mira laughed and dug her thumb through the peel. Widget jumped to his feet, the firelight illuminating the angry scowl forming on his face.
“I’m serious, Mira. You put it down now or I’m done with you.”
Mira stood holding the orange in her hands. Her mouth hung open a little. Everyone had gone painfully silent, and she tried to figure out what was happening from their disturbed faces. She glanced back at Widget, who seemed to consider this orange the difference between life and death. Turning her hand, she let the fruit fall to the ground.
“Fine,” she caved, swiftly returning to her seat.
“Lighten up a little, Widget. It’s not a big deal,” Cybil said.
Widget gave her an icy glare as he settled back onto the end of the log.
“She needs protein in her diet,” he scowled.
The spontaneous conflict put a damper on their moods, leaving them with little to say. Westley appeared disoriented as he awkwardly handed food over to Widget after the outburst. Widget flashed him a quick smile, and Westley returned a sympathetic look.