“Attack!” he screamed to the traiganidorian at his side. The massive beast lunged forward, hands sweeping down towards Sara. Only, she wasn’t there anymore. She was standing on the beast’s neck and with a quick slash of her swords the head fell off and the traiganidorian crumpled to the ground, steaming. Atlatraigan gave a scream of fury and turned towards her, raising his hands to begin a spell. She didn’t give him a chance. The cords of light and darkness streaming around her swords shot towards Atlatraigan and wrapped around his hands, drawing him close. Atlatraigan gave a scream of pain and horror, thrashing about in the bonds she had created for him as Sara drew the man towards his doom.
Sara gave a laugh, “You should have been more careful coming after me like that Atlatraigan. Now you get to pay the price of your failure.” she moved her sword of light up so that it pointed directly at Atlatraigan’s perfectly formed face. The part of Sara which was dreaming wondered briefly at the beauty of that face. It seemed like such a shame to destroy something so wonderful. But the other part of her, the part that held the sword steady and had killed the traiganidorian with such ease, was as immovable as a rock.
Atlatraigan stared up into Sara’s face with horror as he realized how utterly helpless he was before her. “If you kill me, there will be no rest for you. You’ll be hunted the rest of eternity. Just come in with me now, he only wants to ask a few questions. Please, I have no choice. I have to do this.” he glanced back at his hands, “Please.” he said in a voice filled with such desperation that Sara thought her heart would shatter.
She smiled cruelly down at him, “There already is no rest for me.” she said, and the pain in her own voice made Atlatraigan seem like a child crying over the loss of a candy. Sara’s voice nearly drove her mad with the torment and suffering of a thousand thousand worlds. It was filled with the loss of everything and everyone who had ever been held dear, filled with countless betrayals and losses. It was filled with an unknowable pain and suffering and when she spoke even Atlatraigan rocked back in shock.
Then he recovered, and smiled as cruelly as anything Sara had ever seen, “Well now there is!” he sneered at her. Sara froze for a brief moment in confusion, then started to twist her body towards the decapitated traiganidorian. A giant claw smashed through her back and out her chest before she had turned her head so much as an inch. She screamed in agony as every particle in her body began to burst apart under the dark magic of the beast, but kept the presence of mind to whip her sword behind her, cutting off the traiganidorian’s hand and severing its ability to destroy her. She had been so stupid, leaving the traiganidorian unwatched! The things couldn’t be killed in any way so simple as decapitation!
Thoughts flashed through Sara’s head as the pain roared through her, thoughts from the part of her that had been controlling her body that whole time. She didn’t know how this could still be a dream. She had never experienced pain like this in a dream before. It was beyond belief, it should have killed her. With agony pouring through every part of her system, Sara leapt away from Atlatraigan and his traiganidorian and with a twist of her wrist opened a portal. She heard Atlatraigan’s scream of fury as he lunged after her but she was already falling through it and as her foot came through the portal closed. She landed on a rubbish heap and looked around, then smiled. The planet Galtinian a soft voice whispered through Sara’s head. She pulled the traiganidorian claw from her back and cut it into pieces, no need to leave evidence behind. Another spasm of pain smashed her body and she nearly passed out. Shaking it off, she drew on the last of her energy and channeled her power into her swords and the two less powerful daggers which were part of her. Opening a portal to Aulternanden she whipped the four summoned objects through the portal and closed her eyes. A feeling of satisfaction blossomed in her chest, counteracting some of the pain.
An hour later, a man came upon her. He was massively built and with an enormous head that came to a point in a horn and short, coarse hair covered his whole body. “Well, look what we have hear.” he muttered to himself, bending down and picking up Sara, “Selthraxadinian, the man I was looking for himself. You been getting in trouble with them complicated acquisitions again I’m afraid.”
All Sara could do was groan as Garnth carried her for miles to a large building in the middle of a waste land, “Gotta send you to prison now ya know.” he said to her, “Where do you want to go this time?”
Sara felt a smile split her face, “Aulternanden,” she whispered, “Aulternanden.”
Garnth nodded happily, “Aulternanden, huh. I always heard that place was beautiful, ‘s a good choice.” he walked into the building and laid Sara down in a strange contraption. “Alright, you know the drill,” he said, “Try not to squirm around too much.” Garnth pulled a lever to the side of the device and it began to glow and spin in a circle. Pain ripped all along the injury in Sara’s back and everything seemed to stretch out to an eternity, each individual dust mote freezing for just a moment in the air. Then with a scream she disappeared.
Sara sat bolt upright in her little shelter in the alley in the slums of Redtower. She looked down at herself, still a fourteen year old girl, dirty skin, thin arms and legs. No monster standing in the entrance to the alleyway, Matt was still sleeping next to her. With a sob that bordered on hysteria, she lay herself back down but she couldn’t go to sleep. That hadn’t felt like a dream. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it had really happened. She shook her head. No, it had just been a dream. A really bad dream.
For thirty minutes Sara lay on the ground, trying to force herself back into the oblivion of sleep. Finally, she felt herself fall back into the darkness and for the rest of the night her dreams were blessedly free of anything at all. When Sara woke up she gave a sigh of relief and looked around calmly. Everything was normal, she could barely remember what she had dreamed about the previous night. Casting her mind back to what had occurred Sara sat bolt upright, everything rushing back at once. As the memory of what had happened flooded into her, Sara felt some small part of her mind stretch itself out as though getting ready for work after long years without use. Sara shuddered, she didn’t know what was happening and she didn’t want to. Stubbornly she tried to close the door to that new part of her mind but it refused to go away. A tremor of fear ran down her back.
The next two days passed in a kind of stupor for Sara. She mechanically went out to beg and even got a copper the second day but she was so out of it that the other beggars beat it from her as soon as she stepped back into the slums, their fists echoing the pain of the creature from her dream, the horrible ripping as its claw tore through her back. They left her where she fell, taking the coin and leaving her horribly numb as she made her way back to her alleyway home. Matt went out each day and when he came back he questioned her about the way she was feeling but Sara didn’t feel like talking to him. He would just make fun of her for being scared of a dream. The third day when Sara woke up, Matt was standing over her. “I’ve got to go now.” he said, “When I come back we’ll have plenty of money and maybe we could even get apprenticeships.” Sara said nothing in reply and Matt looked down at her, worried. Then he shrugged his shoulders and left the alley.
Sara spent the next week sitting under her shelter, afraid to close her eyes because of the traiganidorians. Worried that she’d have another dream like the one before. She ate through their supply of food after six days, most of it was rotted anyways, and spent the seventh going hungry. When the eight rolled around, though, she was forced to reassess her situation. There was no food, no Matt and she felt far too weak to make it to Main Street.
3
New Friends
Though Chaos pumps through my veins I often find myself loathing Az’emon. He is Chaos, and so cannot bring himself to care about what happens in creation, so long as it is constantly changing. Constantly in Chaos. Sometimes I believe Shattrenlix’s way is correct.
– Letter from Pel Abis, The Dream, to Tel’arib Dethcalus, Lord of Justice
/> Sara spent the whole of the eighth day in a worried panic. Matt had said he would only be gone a week, but it was possible that he had been delayed a day. She wasn’t going to leave the shelter in case he got back to find her missing and started panicking himself. Instead, she sat rocking back and forth the whole day, biting her fingernails and swinging to stare at the mouth of the alley whenever she heard a sound. Every person who passed it looked like Matt, every sound was his returning footsteps.
The eighth day passed with no sign of him, and Sara realized she was going to have to venture out. She looked into the pitiful pile of coins they had stored away, five coppers and the one silver. Five coppers couldn’t buy her anything substantive and Matt had warned her against using the silver. With a painful pit in her belly from hunger, Sara ventured out of the alleyway. She had to find food. Walking slowly to the begging area, she moved towards her normal spot. Then stopped. That piece of her mind that had come awake after the dream stopped her. It was still gray and rainy out and if the past month had been any example she’d likely get nothing from begging. Or at least she wouldn’t get enough to buy food. Even if someone gave her something, hunger had made her far too weak to avoid the other beggars’ fists when she tried to return home.
Turning, she made her way towards the square of vendors she had observed almost two weeks ago. She remembered that she had seen the boy thief pelting out of one of the tents with food in his arms. Sara recoiled at the idea of stealing, Matt had always said it was wrong – that as long as they didn’t steal they were still honorable. But the new part of her mind pushed her forward, the two parts of her conscience reverberated back and forth until Sara almost felt she was sick. The new part of her mind won out. She had to steal, it was the only way for her to stay alive and that was what tipped the balance. Weak as she was, it was still possible she could do the same thing the boy had. Glancing around carefully to make sure no guardsmen were present Sara stepped into the tent. There was food everywhere. Her mouth dropped open. There were fruits from all different places crowding the vendor’s tent. Fruits she had never even known existed. It was an explosion of color to her young eyes. Orange spheres sat next to red and black berries which she didn’t know the name of. Massive yellow fruits with an oblong shape stood in one corner of the tent. Even one of those could keep her fed for a weak. Suddenly a blow landed on her head, “Get out of here you filthy urchin!” the vendor shouted. “No money, no food and you do not have any money.”
Covering her head with her hands, Sara backed up still staring at the massive quantities of food all around her. As the vendor raised his arm to strike her again, Sara ducked out of the tent. Glancing back to make sure there were still no guardsmen around, Sara quickly circled to the back of the tent. She glanced around, slid down to her stomach and slithered underneath the canvas sheet, next to where she remembered seeing the oblong, yellow fruits. The vendor was still staring at the entrance to the tent, as if to make sure she wasn’t coming back in, and Sara smiled. She carefully reached out and grabbed one of the fruits pulling it back towards her. Suddenly the whole pile of them collapsed. The vendor spun around and spotted her. “Thief!” he screeched running and bending down to try and grab her. But Sara pulled herself back out of the tent and began running as fast as she could into the city. The beggars would be sure to attack her for the fruit, but she thought she could escape if she fled further into the unknown. Turning down the first street she saw Sara pelted ahead of the merchant, desperation giving her feet wings.
She turned down street after street, all mirror images of Main Street where she went begging every day. At street corners other merchants stood, calling their wares to the few people who moved through the damp gray air. As Sara ran the streets grew progressively nicer, becoming more cobblestone and less hard packed dirt and more and more of the houses were made of red brick rather than wood. She didn’t dare to turn back and check if the merchant was still following her or not, but every thud of feet behind her made Sara redouble her pace from fear.
Suddenly, the same boy she had seen stealing fruit earlier stuck his head out of an alley. He waved to her, motioning her to run towards him. She slowed to a stop, looking behind her and gave a squeak of fright. The merchant was still there, panting and out of breath, but he had stopped at the base of the last street she had turned onto and was talking to a guardsman who had just showed up. The guardsman glanced up in Sara’s direction and half drew his wooden baton, a glowering look of hatred forming on his face. Swallowing her fears Sara ran towards the boy. He grabbed her hand and began towing her down a series of alleys that she would never have believed existed, let alone would be navigable. Narrow alley followed narrow alley, packed dirt forming the ground underneath Sara’s bare feet and semi-sturdy looking wooden houses serving as walls. There wasn’t trash lining the alley, or feces, but it also wasn’t nice and as Sara ran the dirt, which had been transformed into mud from the damp weather that had settled on Redtower for the past month, churned and splattered onto her feet and her shift. Finally, the boy stopped towing her along at the base of a wooden building. Sara looked up at the building in surprise, she had thought all buildings outside of the slums were well built from wood or from the red brick she had seen out on the main streets. But looking around now she saw that she had been mistaken, all the houses that came out to this alley were made of rather raggedy wood, and some even looked saggy, as though they might collapse at any moment. They were still far nicer than anything in the slums, but they weren’t beautiful.
The boy laughed at her face, he looked like he was seventeen and was tall and incredibly slender, “Yeah, it’s not as nice as they make it seem from the main streets. But don’t worry, it’s still a hell of a lot better than the slums. Now come on, I just stuck my neck out for you, I figure the least you can do is share that squash with me.”
Sara looked down at the oblong fruit she held, “It’s called a squash?”
The boy laughed again, “Man, you really don’t know much do you. You didn’t have an escape route when you stole the thing and you didn’t even know what it was called.”
Sara stared at the ground, hurt, “I just grabbed the biggest fruit I could find.”
“Well don’t worry, I’ll let you keep most of it. But come inside. The guards will find their way here eventually and you don’t want to be caught after making them find their way through those alleys.” Sara looked up at the boy’s cheerful face and decided that she had to trust him, she had followed him this far after all. Taking his proffered hand, the two of them walked into the basement of the building they had stopped in front of.
When they entered, Sara observed her surroundings with interest. The floor was made of dirt, and there were six blanket piles lying haphazardly on the ground. A large wooden beam stood in the center of the room supporting the ceiling which sagged all around at the sides and especially at the corners of the room. Two oil lamps hung, burning, mounted to the sides of the beam. She was surprised to see several small faces peering up at her from under the blanket piles. In the back of the building a tall man sat back in a chair, his gray hair grown long and crazy down his back. Skeletal hands peaked out from the ends of his coat sleeves and there seemed to be barely anybody underneath the heavy, black clothing that he wore. With a smile he looked up at the two of them, “What did you find here, Jonah?” he asked the boy who had saved Sara.
“Girl here stole a squash from old Egbert without an escape route planned out. I had to pull her out of the street before the guards caught her,” the boy, Jonah, said.
The old man smiled, “Well, at least she doesn’t come to us empty handed. That’s a mark in her favor if you ask me.” then seeing how she clutched the squash to herself in fear he laughed and added, “Don’t worry. We have plenty of food here. Jonah and the others go out almost every day to bring it in.”
Sara looked around her curiously, there were five other children all bundled up on the floor. “So you’re all thieves?” she asked, su
spiciously.
“And so are you, I dare say.” the old man laughed, “After all, you didn’t just borrow that squash from Egbert, did you?”
Sara looked down at the squash, suddenly ashamed of herself, “I haven’t eaten in three days. Matt says stealing is bad, but he isn’t back yet from cutting lumber and there’s no more food in the alley.”
Jonah and the old man both looked at her perplexed, “I don’t know who this Matt is, but he sounds like a very silly boy.” the old man said, “My name is Renth, and I can assure you, as someone far older than anyone else you’ve met living in the slums, that stealing is quite an essential art. Can you imagine if people didn’t steal things? Why, vendors would always have a surplus, they’d have to drop their prices so low as to not make a profit! Insanity! No, stealing is most certainly just fine. Especially when you need to steal to stay alive. That’s the law of nature and no man can change it.”
Sara looked at Renth and smiled, “I like you.” she said, impulsively, “I never really understood why we didn’t steal anyways. Besides, it was fun.” she was starting to get excited, “Nothing I ever did with Matt was this fun. I just had to beg in the mornings and sit in that dirty alley all day.”
Renth laughed out loud, “We got ourselves a real thief here. Enjoys stealing she does.” Sara looked down, embarrassed again, “Don’t be ashamed, if you like stealing that’s all the better. Nobody’s ashamed if they like banking but enjoy stealing and it’s something terrible. Pah. Anything you like to do is something you should do if you ask me.”
The God in the Shadows (The Story at the Heart of the Void Book 1) Page 3