by Rosie Scott
“I'm sorry,” I offered. I didn't remember it, but I could sympathize with him.
“You couldn't help it. I'm just glad you're back.” The thief smiled at me, the gesture accentuating his youthful features.
“Kai! Thank the gods.” I turned to the voice just in time to be grabbed into a hug, Cerin squeezing me into him until I felt I would break. When we parted, his silver eyes rolled over me, stopping short at the rip in my torso armor. “You've been through hell,” he breathed.
I looked over his own armor, which was not unscathed. Cerin had taken the time to heal throughout the battle, though the marks in the black leather of his armor and the resulting streaks of dried blood were evidence he'd been injured multiple times. “And you haven't?” I retorted, before we moved farther into battle together. Cerin did not respond, so as I leeched from more foes I asked him, “Where have you been? You were in this marketplace long ago, but I couldn't find you.”
“Chasing some assassins into buildings,” he replied, nodding toward the structures along the edge of the city nearby.
“There are more in the rich sector,” I informed him, pointing over to the northwest, where Azazel had directed my attention long ago.
Cerin shook his head, long black hair swishing by his elongated neck. “There shouldn't be many, anymore. Calder and Azazel are ransacking everything there with the slaves. Nyx went with them.”
I glanced around me. Sure enough, there were few Alderi fighting with us who weren't in beast form. Then, I remembered Cerin's specific words. “Calder and Azazel went...together?”
“Yeah. Calder can't give directions, remember?”
“I'm just shocked they're doing anything together.”
“It was out of necessity,” Cerin informed me. “Calder needed someone who could lead, and he couldn't find you.”
“I was busy toppling towers,” I replied.
“That was you?” Anto laughed heartily a few feet to my left. “Then I'll need to pick up my pace. You've killed more today than I ever could.”
“And you weren't even here to see the tornado,” I mused.
“The what?”
It wasn't long before the remaining enemies in the marketplace were dead. Our armies had surrounded the foes in the marketplace, and the fire wall I'd built at the tunnel kept them trapped. The city was not taken—not yet—but the hardest work was done. The southern half of the city had been cleared long ago when Azazel had caused the explosion, and now all signs of life had faded from the north. All that was left was to aid Calder's group in rooting out the remaining Alderi who were too cowardly to fight.
Hazarmaveth had been well-populated before our arrival. Now, thousands were dead. The market square in particular was so cluttered with the dead that there were layers of bodies. The cool cavern air stunk of blood and other bodily fluids, and the brownish glimmer of liquids over the stone floor was not first on my list of things to try to identify.
Many of the shapeshifters morphed back into their normal forms, because many of them were far too large to fit within the doorways of our next destination. Those who could maneuver well stayed put as their blood-kin. Cerin and I took the time to heal the worst of wounds, though we didn't want to risk leaving our friends in the rich sector alone for very long. The less lethal wounds would wait.
The shapeshifters had left their clothes and supplies back in the southern tunnel, so many were nude, particularly the men. Jayce and the other women found themselves happy with the selection of Alderi loot, because most of it fit them just fine. Some of the men did loot from the slave casualties, because there were also plenty of those. The half-naked beastmen were told to stay in the middle of our group as we traveled through the city, because they were our most vulnerable soldiers.
Jakan took it upon himself to turn invisible and bash open doors, searching for enemies or signs of the others. Building after building had already been gone through. Bodies of Alderi women were lying scattered everywhere within their homes and businesses, and many corpses were outside in alleyways and streets, after attempting to run from the battle. Most of them were dead from Alderi blades and bows, proving it had been our new recruits who had killed them. Some of them had been mauled. Given that Calder was the only beastman who'd gone with the group, it was clear evidence he'd been there.
We were having trouble finding the army, so they must have progressed quicker than we'd thought, or perhaps the battle had simply lasted much longer than we remembered. I finally turned to the beastmen behind me.
“Does anyone here know the detect life spell?” I questioned. Surely, many of them did. It was a spell from the same school of magic they'd needed to learn in order to shapeshift.
A volunteer walked forward. “Sik le life,” she whispered, holding a hand up. No energy appeared above her palm, though she swept her hand around in a circle until it did. Masses of red energy were cluttered to the south.
We hurried down a wide street leading south, the western cavern wall within viewing distance to our right. We were passing bodies upon bodies. Calder and the others had made good time.
I heard whispers down an alleyway, and our army slowed to a stop to see what it was. An Alderi woman and a group of men stood in the shadows between two buildings, a patch of fungi near their feet only slightly giving away their forms with a light blue glow. One of the beastmen prepared for battle, but I stopped him with a hand.
“Calder has freed you?” I questioned, into the darkness.
“Yes,” one of the men replied. “Calder and Azazel.”
I nodded, before our army continued on its path. The closer we got to the rest of our soldiers, the more confused I became. No sounds of battle rang out.
Alderi slaves were huddled in the street, though there were too many of them to fit. Some were going in and out of open doors of buildings nearby, looting and exploring. I used the enhance vision spell to ensure I wasn't missing anything. No, these were all our men. I looked for Calder and Azazel, but could not find them.
“Kai,” one of the recruits greeted, watching as my friends and I came to a stop before them. “The battle in the market is finished?”
“It is,” I replied, my eyes darting through the crowds of soldiers. “Is your battle finished?”
The man nodded, though he then shrugged. “As far as we know, yes. We're still going through buildings. There are bound to be stragglers.”
“Where is Calder? Where are Nyx and Azazel?”
The man turned, pointing to the largest building on the block, stretching far off into the shadows, and standing at least six stories high. He replied verbally as well, but I didn't hear him. My eyes caught on a steel plaque on the outside wall, which touted a clever name for a whorehouse. Beneath the words, multiple artistic renditions of handsome Alderi male faces were lined.
I headed there, with Cerin, Jakan, Anto, Vallen, and Jayce on my heels. The rest of our army waited outside with the others, and I heard Vallen give them permission to search and loot on their own.
Immediately upon entering the brothel, the building opened up to the left, for its front door was along its far right wall. There were cells upon cells lining the walls as far as my eyes could see, though all of their doors were open. Many Alderi males were in the midst of preparing to leave, and glanced up at our arrival. Some of the men were stunningly beautiful, with smooth skin and perfect shiny black hair. Some had the lightest complexions of the Alderi, with hues of light grays and blues, while others were impossibly dark, skin nearly as black as the shadows. There were men with every hue between. Others were ruggedly handsome, with thicker muscles and broader features. Some were young and within their first few hundred years of life. Others were hundreds of years older than that, and gave off a more mature vibe. There were men here for every woman's taste, and my heart went out to them for their past experiences.
I left the men to their freedom. None of them were who I was looking for, so I passed the front desk, ignoring menus of prices by the hour
, and lists of available men. I didn't even glance at the stock of alcohol which awaited in a small refreshments area as I passed it. I hurried to a set of stone steps which led up the right side of the building, and to the second floor.
Carved in the wall at the top of the steps were directions, calling my attention to the fact that the second floor had held sex slaves, and that the beds were available on the fourth floor and up. Three floors of cells, three floors of beds. Given that this wasn't the only brothel I'd seen in Hazarmaveth, I could have been shocked at how huge of a commodity sex was here. Then again, I thought of the libidos of Nyx and Calder, and couldn't pretend to be surprised.
The door was open to the second floor hallway, so I peered down it. I immediately caught a glimpse of Nyx. I hurried into the hallway of mostly empty cells, passing their open doors and corpses of the women who had once run this place, who had used men as literal products. Many of them were mauled. Others had been peppered with arrows, though Azazel had taken his ammo back from the bodies. It was clear that Nyx had allowed the two men their own revenge, much like I had stood back for Ricco long ago in Thanati.
At the end of the hallway, Azazel stared into an empty cell, which was the last on the right. Calder had morphed back into an Alderi, and stood nude across the hall from the archer, breathing heavily as he leaned onto the bars of the second to last cell on the left. Calder was covered in blood from multiple wounds, and he was in immense pain from his latest transformation. Blue fingers wrapped around two bars, slipping from slick sweat and blood.
I swallowed hard as I approached the men. Azazel glanced up to me, relieved to see that we were all right. Nyx smiled softly at me, though she remained quiet. Our friends were in mourning, so none of us spoke.
I stood at the end of the cell Calder clung to, though I was silent. My eyes peered between the bars. There was nothing for the slaves in here save for thin straw mats and a bucket for waste. There had been no privacy for them. No dignity. No freedom. These men had been treated worse than most animals, only allowed to leave the tiny square cells for long enough to be used by a woman who happened to have the gold.
My enhanced eyesight called attention to a carving at the bottom of the right-hand back wall of the cell, nearest the bars which connected it to the last of the row.
KOBY 47th H.S. 349, it read. Beside it, Koby had drawn the sun. It was a simple drawing, only of a circle surrounded by crude lines meant to mimic the rays of sunshine. Beneath the orb, Koby had drawn a happy face.
I glanced in the cell to its right. In different handwriting, Calder had carved, Alastor. Date: ??? He had tried to draw something beside it, but it hadn't turned out very well. From what I could tell, it appeared to be a hand giving a nasty gesture to the women who would be forced to see it when they chose him for use.
I turned my head, finding Azazel's cell to be empty of drawings or carvings at all. Like with everything else, he'd simply been left out.
Calder turned his head slowly in my direction, though he kept it leaned against two bars of Koby's old cell. Streaks ran down to his chin from moist red eyes. He smiled sadly when he saw it was me standing there.
“Can I bother you...” he trailed off, with a grimace of pain. He shuddered out an exhale, before he went on, “...for the illusion spell?”
I did not reply, only putting my hand to the side of his head, and using mute senses. I wondered why he hadn't asked Nyx to use it, because she knew it as well. I watched Calder get visibly relieved when the magic dulled his pain. He turned his head back to Koby's cell, where another tear rolled down his cheek, following the trail of its predecessor.
“It feels like yesterday,” Calder murmured, his voice thick and hoarse. “Kai...” he swallowed hard, trying to force himself free of the emotion which threatened to bubble over. “You are a god. Do you think he sees us here?” His voice thickened further, nearly making him indecipherable. “Do you think he's proud of me?”
My heart ached so badly it felt like it was tearing. Calder had never given me any indication that he thought more of me because I was a god. Throughout all of our talks where it had come up, he'd never shown more than mild interest. Now, here he was, desperately seeking answers he thought only I could give.
I did not believe in an afterlife. I never had, and that belief had only become stronger when I'd found out my own origins. But I knew why many did believe. Tragedies of life were easier to accept when one didn't believe they were final. If there was an afterlife, the mistakes of this lifetime could be mended. Second chances were always given. When I thought of Bjorn and Theron and Ricco, I wished I could believe I would see them again. Yet, one cannot force beliefs. They develop from mindsets, from experiences. And as much as I loved Calder, we were two very different people from two very different backgrounds. When I answered him, I chose my words carefully.
“I think Koby would be immensely proud of you, Calder,” I murmured. “It was harder for you to come here without him, but you did it all the same. This is your past, and this was his past, and you've conquered it. There are thousands like him in the streets outside. Each one of them is free, and it is thanks to you.” My eyes fell upon the carvings Koby had made over seven decades ago. “Koby is proud. So proud.”
With little warning, Calder grabbed me to him in a hug, squeezing me to him as if I were his last lifeline. Azazel had been right; Calder had formed a strong bond with me that rivaled what he'd had with Koby. Over the past three moons of traveling together, my support and friendship had meant the world to him.
I held onto him ever tighter, tears forming in my own eyes as he rested his head on my shoulder, giving himself in to mourning. I cried for his traumatic experiences. I cried for his loss. I cried for my part in it. And I cried because Calder had become one of my best friends, and before long, our paths would separate.
For now, though, we had each other. And we'd just tasted our second victory, for Hazarmaveth was ours.
Thirty-two
Nyx held a mug still over the smooth stone of the bar, before pouring a glass of Alderi ale until the alcohol spilled over its edges. I pulled my arms back on the other side of the bar, avoiding the drink. It smelled rancid, and when a bottle of alcohol was so strong it had multiple warning labels stuck to the side of where it shouldn't be kept or drank, I was staying as far away from it as I could.
“Azazel,” Nyx said, before nodding at the mug.
The archer lifted up a hand from a few bar stools down to my left, where he sat beside Anto. The mug slid over to him on the bar, the movement spilling drops of ale along the way. I'd since found out that the alteration spell was called telekinesis, and it allowed Azazel to push or pull material objects from a distance, though it only worked on things light enough that were able to be easily moved on their own.
Nyx chuckled. “I love when he does that,” she mused, before putting the bottle of ale back on the shelves behind the bar. “Vallen?”
“Ah, they got any Highlander Grog?” Vallen requested, two seats down on my right past Calder.
Nyx gave him an impatient look. “Just because we are under Eteri doesn't mean we are in it. The Alderi don't deal with that weak shit.”
Vallen chuckled heartily. “It was worth a shot. Surprise me, Nyx. Let's see how quickly you can knock me out.”
“You don't need alcohol for that,” I quipped, to which the bear-kin laughed.
“You're not drinking today?” Calder asked beside me. He held a mug of spicy ale with his left hand, and was nursing a ferris cigarette with his right.
“I'll try something. Spit it up. Decide on water,” I replied.
Calder chuckled. “Don't worry, love. The Alderi do have weak ale for soft stomachs.” He put the cigarette in his mouth, and breathed deep. When he next spoke, smoke drifted between his lips toward me, smelling of sweet herbs. “The weakest of us can't handle the other stuff, whether by faulty genes or health issues, so it is made out of necessity.”
A mug was sat before me a mom
ent later. My eyes moved up from it to Nyx, where she smiled. “Don't worry, Kai. I chose the second weakest for you.”
“Ah. The second weakest. Thank you for saving my ego.” I pulled the glass toward me, watching as Nyx moved in front of Cerin, who hadn't requested anything.
“Sorry, bud,” she said. “We don't have milk.” Cerin raised one middle finger at her, to which she laughed. “Seriously, though, we have nothing for you here.”
“Get him a glass,” I told her, building water magic in my palm.
The battle for Hazarmaveth had lasted for nearly four days, and thousands upon thousands were freed. There had been a network of sympathizers in the city far larger than Azazel's knowledge had allowed us access to, but the women we'd visited during the first two days of our infiltration of the city had spread the word like we'd asked them to. It was a relief to me to hear that many of the women desired equality. I'd often wondered if the culture of the underground would slip back into its sinful ways after we freed the males, because culture is usually something deeply ingrained in one's outlook. For sure, there would be scuffles and fights in the future here. That could not be avoided anywhere. But liberating the cities was a solid first step which would hopefully build a foundation that would last for centuries to come.
Corvina and the other sympathizers here would be the women we would rely upon most to run and rebuild Hazarmaveth while we moved on to Quellden. Not only did they agree with our liberation, but because they were women, they had a greater respect from the peers who hadn't been as keen on changing the rules of their culture. When we left the city within the next few days for our final goal, we would have an army of eight thousand. Our plan had worked magnificently to minimize our losses, and even though many had died, Hazarmaveth's vast population had allowed us to heavily recruit. Many thousands of men and women were left to stay and fix the city, and they wouldn't have a hard time doing it. Only two tunnels led to Hazarmaveth. To the south was Thanati, so few problems were expected from there. To the north, there was only the exit to Eteri and the tunnels leading east to Quellden, which were the ones we'd be traveling through. If Hazarmaveth was to expect problems from anyone, it would most likely be assassins returning from jobs in Eteri, and individuals were easy to deal with.