“What are they doing? Are they crazy?” Ethen frantically tugged at his cloak as if it were about to fly off his back. “This is only a trial! A trial! What the hell are they thinking? No one’s supposed to actually die during a trial!”
“Quiet,” said Astrid with a hiss. He was right, she knew that, but she couldn’t think with him buzzing away like a bee in her ear.
The competitors seemed equally surprised as the rest of the crowd. They cowered before the troll, mere toys in the presence of a destructive child. While the dwarve’s expressions were a mystery, the pirate, however, didn’t even try to hide the look of ripening horror on his face.
Lyell released the chain from the troll’s collar and gave one final heave of the torch into the creature’s backside. The stony skinned troll toppled into the Pit, sending both dwarve and pirate scrambling to get away. The impact rumbled the arena and surrounding buildings like a star fallen from the heavens. Astrid clung to Ethen’s arm as the balcony swayed beneath their feet. A cloud of dust bloomed and rushed above their heads, encasing them in a dingy brown haze. On the tier across from Astrid a small girl slipped from between the railing and disappeared in the darkest part of the swirling storm below.
Astrid felt her heart stop dead in her chest as her eyes strained to see past the cloud of dust stirred up by the troll’s landing. She didn’t know how she had managed to catch sight of the girl falling, but Astrid was sure if she had seen her, someone else must have, too. Yet no one screamed for the lost child, or even called out for her. Her mother was most likely one of the humans throwing their money away on lost bets, if she had a mother at all.
The troll howled again, rumbling the arena like thunder. The smothered cry of a child drifted up through the dust.
With beady eyes blinking, the troll’s head peaked up out of the settling dust cloud. His back was to Astrid. She knew now was her time, more than ever.
“See you on the other side, brother,” she said, springing from one well-placed foot on the railing, arms spread wide, and a long, dangerous hunting knife in each hand. She could hear Ethen’s gasp echoing far behind her.
The force of colliding against the troll’s rock solid back shook Astrid to her core. She could feel the fleshy crunch of her blades sinking into the troll’s tree bark skin. The troll cried out and cranked its stocky neck over its slumping shoulder to see what was causing it so much pain. The dust had cleared enough for her to see the two warriors shielding themselves from the thrashing of the troll’s long tree trunk arms, swinging like limp maces in the hands of a drunken knight.
Astrid retracted her blades and dropped to the ground before the troll could catch sight of her. She lunged though the troll’s vein-etched legs and crouched in the blind spot beneath its enormous sunken chest. Thank the gods, thought Astrid as she danced back and forth to keep the troll’s vision obscured by its hulking girth, that this creature can’t see its feet.
Her eyes searched the arena for the fallen girl. She stood near the armored dwarve, her face hidden in her hands. Astrid, glad to see the girl uninjured, glanced over to the contending warriors to see if she were to gain any assistance in her fight. Each cowered in his own corner, yelping with each swing of the troll’s fists. She shook her head. These two, so used to dealing with foes their own size, could never survive a night alone in the desert. She smirked at their fear and thrust her daggers into the back of the troll’s right ankle, digging them across his protruding tendon and shredding it in two. Trolls, she thought, dodging the beast’s writhing body as it crashed into the dust, couldn’t they have gotten something a little more challenging? She had once snuck out to watch Warrior Vintas’s class hunt trolls. Though, the usual ways to fell the beasts were to set traps, however in a pinch slicing through the thin skin on their ankles always works best.
The dust plumed up over her head. She could hear the troll rasping and whimpering. In a way, she pitied it. She only hoped its master was merciful enough to put it out of its misery instead of releasing it back into the wilds of the desert where it would discover a much more cruel way of dying.
Astrid felt her way around the troll’s quivering mass toward the girl. From what she had seen, the child looked almost too young for words. Finding her mother in the crowd would be a near impossible task. That is if she had a mother. Astrid reached her hand out and brushed the child’s tear soaked face with her fingertips. The sound of the child’s breath caught in her throat at Astrid’s touch.
“It’s going to be alright. You’re safe now,” said Astrid, taking advantage of the child’s stillness to scoop her up in her arms. The girl didn’t protest and only buried her dirtied face into Astrid’s shoulder, hiding from the fierce world around her.
When the dust had cleared, Astrid stood with the girl in her arms on the stage behind Fryx’s satin throne. The myriad of guards that surrounded them jumped to their feet, all but a few well-trained ones still struggling to pull their swords from their sheaths.
She kneeled beside the startled dwarve, her face hard and eyes menacing.
“This child was spared today. The next may not.”
Astrid kneeled down and sat the child on her feet. She looked up at her, rubbing the grime from her eyes, and smiled.
“I have an offer for you,” said Fryx, stroking the yellow braids in his beard.
“Meet me at my villa in an hour. I assure you it will be well worth your time.”
Astrid scoffed and looked up the crowd. The audience was hushed with an uneasy silence. Dark eyes glared down at her while they hissed their disdain in each other’s ears. “She interrupted a trial, all for a child! And she didn’t even kill the beast, what kind of warrior is she! She has no respect for our ways, none at all.”
She turned away from the spiteful crowd back toward Fryx.
“I’ll be there.”
Chapter Three
Fryx’s villa was carved into a cliff just outside the city’s walls. The rumbling sea foamed up around its base and trickled down alongside a winding set of steps. The walls of the villa were smooth and windowless. Astrid stood staring up at the large gaping door before her, a twisting wordless mouth that beckoned her inside.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ethen tugged at her sleeve. He eyed the ocean water with an anxious gaze. The thought of being out at sea terrified him.
“Do you want me to be honest?” She looked him in the eye, a faint smile tugging at her mouth. The stillness of his face alerted her of his seriousness. “Then no, I’m not. But when am I ever sure about anything?”
Astrid turned and sprinted her way up the rocky steps. She could hear Ethen sigh and scrape his boots against the weathered stairs trying to catch up. She knew he would follow her to the ends of the earth.
The door was made of driftwood and bound together with tendrils of thick shining silver. There was no handle or knob. Astrid ran her hands over the smooth bleached surface. Up close, the door looked as if it were made from twisting bone. She heaved against the door, first with her shoulder, then with her back. The wood barely creaked against her weight and refused to budge at all.
“Look at this!” Astrid’s head popped up from where it rested against the cool wooden surface to see what Ethen had found. In his hand he held a heavily braided tassel, entwined with glimmering red and gold silk rope.
“Well, don’t just show it off, pull it,” said Astrid, annoyed that she didn’t find it herself.
Ethen tugged the tassel down to his waist. The rope shot up out of his hand and retreated into a hole in the alcove above the head of the door. A deep clanging bellowed from inside the villa. The door shuddered and seemed to crack and splinter in its center. Suddenly, the middle gave way and came apart like the interlocked fingers of two hands.
“Welcome guests, to my humble abode.” Fryx’s voice echoed out from the massive hall Astrid could only catch glimpses of from where she stood. “Please, do come in.”
She glanced at Ethen. He was waiting for her lead,
his eyes wide and nervous. Astrid nodded at him and strode inside. She sheathed her knives before anyone could see they had been drawn just a few moments before.
Astrid’s eyes traced the arabesque designs of silver that crept along the door and up the wall and winding together in a knot as if it were an unkempt vine. The plaster that covered the remainder of the ceiling was a vast mural of the sea, complete with mermaids with gold leafed hair and sea monsters with glittering ruby eyes.
Ethen stepped onto an iron grate, the sudden distance below his feet causing him to tense, ready for a fall. Astrid laughed at his uneasiness and peered through the iron bars. Deep inside the pit sat a shadowy creature with two long glinting horns. It huffed, sniffing the air with its snout.
“Haaaaa,” it said, rattling the chain around its neck, “I smell you, girl. A Phooka never forgets a smell like that.” It huffed at the air again, laughing at Astrid’s silence.
Ethen nudged her arm, mouthing the words let’s go! She nodded, following him through the remainder of the great hall and into a smaller chamber. The hollow laughter of the strange creature floated behind her, nipping at her heels.
The room was furnished with a flourish of silk pillows, most of which were large enough to use as a bed. Astrid kicked her way through the piles of cushions, searching for the most practical of the bunch.
Ethen had wandered over to a laden tea table and began scavenging and stuffing his mouth and pockets.
Astrid finally chose a plain rotund pillow the color of tree bark. She flopped down onto it and immediately sank deep into its fluff.
“Oh Gods, there isn’t a decent seat in this whole damn place!” Astrid rolled out of the pillow and sprang onto her feet, giving the portly nightmare a hefty kick. Ethen mumbled something through a mouthful of fruit, juice trickling down his chin and splattering onto the floor.
She began to pace, her mind uneasy with thoughts of that beast, the Phooka—why does it seem so familiar? And why does he find me familiar?
A gangly goblin stumbled in through the doorway, a squealing horn bleating at his lips.
Astrid winced at its sickening sound while Ethen spat mushed food from his mouth in surprise.
Fryx burst in soon after the goblin, now flaunting a deep red cloak with heavy gold fringe. Astrid had never seen so many clothes in one day.
“Greetings again. Good to see that you’re making yourselves at home—” Fryx’s beady eyes hardened at the crumbs and saliva congealing on Ethen’s face. He promptly pulled a black silk handkerchief from his billowing sleeve and shoved it into his guest’s hands.
“—sir, about your proposition,” Astrid paused while Fryx composed himself.
“Oh yes,” said Fryx, “but one more thing before we begin.” He turned to face the knock-kneed goblin. “Quibell, fetch the map.” The goblin dipped in a small bow and scurried out the door.
Quibell was only out for a moment before he came hobbling back in with a giant roll of wooden slats tied with a golden rope. He heaved it down onto the floral carpeted floor and unrolled it with a shove of his boot.
“There, just to the north of your tribe’s village, is a canyon hidden among the jagged cliffs,” said Fryx, pointing with a many ringed finger. “That is where you will find the creature I seek.”
Astrid studied the map, her face stern with thought. “What exactly is this creature you want us to capture?” Her life in the desert had taught her that some beasts were better left alone, no matter how much they were worth.
Fryx strained a smile, rubbing his plump hands together. “This is a creature unlike any that has ever been seen. He is half man, half phoenix. And utterly priceless.”
Astrid shot Ethen a concerned look. His face had blanched. They both knew hunting down such a thing would mean exile from their tribe.
“We cannot do it,” said Astrid, shaking her head. “Let’s go, Ethen. We’re wasting our time here.”
Fryx yelped and dashed in front of their path. “Wait! I need this creature!”
“Why? So you can put it on display? We have better things to do,” said Astrid, pushing the sea dwarve aside.
“Please!” Fryx trailed behind them, his voice desperate. “If I don’t find a phoenix, he’ll die!” He stopped, clasping his hand over his mouth.
Astrid halted and peered down at the broken dwarve. He knelt, crumpled on the floor, fighting back sobs. “Who will die?”
Fryx sighed and rose to his shaky feet. He beckoned for them to follow. They wound down a narrow corridor to a small, dimly lit chamber. Though incense hung heavy in the air, the foul smell of decay forced Astrid to wince. Fryx lit a candle and brought it to the chamber’s bed. In it lay a creature with pale green skin and dull green eyes. Astrid guessed it to be a tree sprite, though she had only heard stories about the quiet forest folk. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he thrashed at Fryx’s candle light. His arms were black and mottled with rot. Astrid could see the rot continued down his torso.
“What’s wrong with him?” Ethen stood behind Astrid, his voice hushed as not to disturb the pained creature from his delirium.
“He has been poisoned,” said Fryx, “with sea viper venom.” He snuffed out his candle to ease the tree sprite’s suffering. Fryx dabbed at the sweat on his pale green skin, his face strained to keep the tears at bay. “The poison was meant for me.”
Fryx guided them back to the main hall without a word.
Astrid stood before the humbled sea dwarve, weighing her words carefully. “There was no need to lie to us,” she said, her voice calm.
Fryx nodded. “I see that now. You must understand that Alistair is my weakness. I have many enemies that would kill for a chance to cripple my grip on this city. If they were to find out, if they succeed in his death when they thirst for mine…” He closed his eyes, his mouth a small furrow in his yellow beard. “If he dies because of me, I fear I may follow him to the grave.”
Astrid glanced at Ethen. Ethen nodded, pity weighing heavy on his brow.
“We will do it,” she said, her hand outstretched. Fryx latched onto it, shaking it ferociously.
“Thank you, thank you! Praise to your names! I will give you anything for my Alistair to be well again. Gold, jewels—name your price and it will be yours.”
“Gold would be much appreciated,” said Ethen, rubbing his prickly chin.
Astrid nodded. Gold would do much to help their family. But it didn’t seem enough.
“Gold would suffice. However, I have one more request,” said Astrid.
“Anything! What do you desire?” Fryx’s eyes were desperate as he waited for her reply.
“The beast I saw as we walked through your great hall, I wish to know more about it,” she said, her arms folded against her chest.
“Ah,” said Fryx, “you wish to know about the Phooka. I will tell you all you wish to know when you return.”
Astrid opened her mouth to protest but thought better than to argue with a merchant. “We have ourselves a deal,” she said, bowing her head. Fryx snatched her hand and gave it a hearty shake.
“Yes, indeed we do! Thank you, yet again!”
***
“Do we really have to go inside there?” Ethen kicked at his glider, folding the sail down with a sharp snap.
“Yes, we really do. Are you frightened? It’s just a canyon. What’s the worst that could happen?” Astrid hefted her glider underneath the cover of the gnarled underbrush. Cutting a strand from a streak of her clay-reddened hair, she tied it to a thorny branch. The hair flickered in the desert wind like a small flame.
Ethen grunted, sliding his glider next to Astrid’s. “Of course I’m frightened! You know as well as I do the kinds of things that live out in places like that. There’s nowhere safer than open sand, that’s what Ilsie always says,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
“Ilsie says a lot of things, Ethen. Like how I should be a good girl and learn the healing arts and not worry my head about fighting,” said Astrid. She spat in th
e dust, disgusted at the thought of being forced to live such a simple life. “No, we’re going in there. And when we come out, we will be worthy of the name Warrior.”
Ethen gave a weak grin, a ray of hope poking through his doubtful thoughts. “Oh, all right. After all, I suppose being ripped to pieces isn’t so bad.” Astrid cuffed him in the ear, putting him in motion. It was still a hefty walk to the mouth of the canyon.
They passed over jagged rocks and tangled brush, watching the cluttered ground for desert vipers. Rocks were a favorite hiding place for the smooth red snake.
After an hour of hobbling along the treacherous ground, they reached the gaping mouth of the canyon. Its sides rose up far above their heads, piercing the thick gauzy clouds that hung low in the sky.
Astrid didn’t notice any of the usual animal life that would inhabit a place like that. There were no rock lizards, no sand sparrows, not even a nest of storm crows. The belly of the canyon was still with the kind of silence that made Astrid clutch at her hunting knives with white-knuckled fists.
Astrid met Ethen’s worried gaze. She could tell he too could sense the unease. He slid his bow from over his shoulder and notched an arrow on its string. They positioned themselves back to back, each waiting for the silence to be broken.
Step by step, they crept further into the canyon. Astrid would lead then slowly revolve to the rear, letting Ethen take the lead. She remembered when Warrior Vintas taught the class this tactic, emphasizing how it allowed the company to keep fresh eyes on their surroundings. Tired eyes often played tricks on the warrior’s mind.
Shadow Queen Page 3