Darien and the Lost Paints of Telinoria

by Jeanna Kunce

  Darien had little time to take in any of her surroundings as she tried to keep up. The tents she passed were all the same light color and rectangular style. She did her best to observe little details along the way to help her find her way back, should she need them; one had a silky blue flag on top, another had a colorfully woven mat in front of the door, and yet another had a line of small metal flowers bordering the property.

  Looking up, Darien saw that two higher levels along the cave wall appeared to house the permanent residents of Garddington. Each cave opening on the middle level was covered with more of the canvas tent material, with only a tied flap as a door, whereas the top-level caves had sturdy doors made of either wood or metal, all of them plain and practical rather than ornamental.

  Soon Darien began to worry how long she would have to follow the man through this strange outer city. Already her feet were sore from walking barefoot on the hard stony ground, and the rows of similar tents seemed never to end.

  To her relief, she finally passed the last tent. Darien slowed her pace, rightly assuming that they were approaching the food carts she had heard about.

  For the first time, Darien had an unobstructed view of the terrain beyond the outer city. From where she stood, she could see that the path she was on widened and led to the line of carts she had expected to see. The left side met with the carved-out wall of the mountain. The right side dropped off sharply to a murky, still lake.

  Faintly visible in the distance was the palace of King Radburn, looming over the small rocky island on which it was built. Few details could be seen from such a distance; even so, anyone could tell that the palace had been built much more for strength rather than for beauty. Its four high towers and thick stone walls gave the immediate impression that outsiders were unwelcome and attack would be impossible. I always thought castles were cool, but that place is just ugly, Darien thought. I guess I’m not in a fairy tale, after all.

  In the time that Darien had been in the city, she had been both lucky and smart in making her way so far and avoiding suspicion. But as the red-haired man stopped to the right of one of the many waiting carts and set down his heavy load, Darien realized too late that she had made a big mistake in following the first vendor to leave the marketplace. For here there was no bustling crowd to camouflage her, not even a family or group of vendors was in sight.

  Almost paralyzed with the uncertainty of what to do next, Darien watched from the shadows as the man stretched his back and then hoisted his crate of food up onto the cart with a loud grunt of exertion. Her only hope was that he would leave without seeing her, giving her a chance to find a hiding place before the next vendor arrived. Darien crouched down four carts behind as the man walked to the back of his cart. He didn’t even spare a glance in her direction, but just as she thought he was about to leave, he came around the left side of the line of carts and headed toward her.

  Frantically trying to think of a cover story, Darien held her breath. At the last moment, the man turned and walked right through the wall! Darien blinked hard at the impossibility of what her eyes had seen. She held still for a moment, knowing that if she stood up too fast her trembling legs wouldn’t hold her. When she felt steadier, she approached the place where the man had disappeared. There, almost hidden by the shadows, Darien found a low arched doorway leading to a passage beyond. At first it was completely dark, then it brightened with a flickering light accompanied by soft creaking noises and slowly approaching footsteps.

  The limited light still allowed Darien to see that the passageway was plain, narrow, and turned some distance ahead. A cool drift of air from inside tickled around her ankles. Remembering that time was short, Darien hurried past the entrance and turned to examine the man’s cart.

  The crate inside was large, but not big enough to hold a person, even if it hadn’t been filled with pouches of cooked food. The rest of the cargo area was bare, with not even a blanket or a seat for Darien to hide under. In front, the cart looked similar to a bicycle that was connected with gears and pulleys to the two-wheeled cargo area in back. Hearing footsteps from the passage, Darien ran past the next two carts and slipped into another of the dark doorways. She peeked out to see the vendor returning with a wheeled pallet stacked with more crates. He began loading his cart as Darien crouched down to watch.

  From her new low vantage point, she noticed something that gave her a glimmer of hope. Underneath the bottom of the cart opposite her doorway, Darien could now see that there was a long board running straight across the middle, parallel to the wheel axles. A grown man could never have fit underneath between the board and the cart bottom, and a very petite woman would have had a hard time. But Darien was only a girl, and she thought she would be able to make it work if she only had the chance to get back over to the cart without being seen.

  Unfortunately, she had to wait for that chance. A second vendor was approaching from the rear of the carts while a guard was inspecting those at the head. The guard gave a quick look at the empty carts as he made his way purposefully toward the one now half filled with goods. Darien tried to keep her spirits up, but she feared that she had missed her only opportunity to make it into the cart without being noticed. She backed further into the passageway to stay out of sight, even though the intense darkness made her feel vulnerable, rather than safely hidden. She waited, feeling jumpy with impatience, but the men remained frustratingly close to her doorway.

  To make matters worse, Darien seemed to hear the sound of two other distant voices drifting eerily toward her from the inner part of the passageway. She found it hard to believe that anyone would be hanging around in the pitch blackness beyond, but curiosity got the best of her and she made her way deeper into the mountain, trying to hear what the people were saying.

  A young woman’s voice: “There’s no way they’ll let you in there.”

  A raspy older man’s voice: “Why not? They won’t recognize me this way.”

  Woman: “The guards will take one look at you and turn you away, even if they don’t know who you are. I told you, it’s too late anyway. Let’s just stay here until the others leave and then go back.”

  Man: “No! No. This is where I need to be, I feel it.”

  Woman: A heavy sigh. “So let’s pretend you could get in. They’re criminals. How do you think you can get them out this way?”

  Man: “I don’t.”

  Woman: “Would you like to tell me what you mean, or is this another one of your mysterious answers that you never explain?”

  Man: “There is another way out.”

  Woman: “Really?” she said with a sarcastic tone. “There is another way out that no one else in the whole entire city knows about?”

  Man: “Radburn knows. A few select guards know. They’re not about to share the information with you. Or anyone else, for that matter. I would guess that only the most loyal and trusted people know, and even they are under penalty of death if they speak of it.”

  Woman: “And you know this for sure? It’s really there?”

  Man: “Yes. If you must know, it’s how I managed to escape so many years ago.”

  Woman: “Aahhh . . . two mysteries unveiled in one day. I’m not sure how I’ll— ”

  Man: “Hush! I see something.”

  Woman: “But you can’t—”

  Man: “Hush!”

  There was complete silence for a few moments as the voices and Darien froze. Suddenly, there was a flare of green light, and a bony hand grabbed Darien’s sore arm in an iron grip. She gasped and felt dizzy at what her eyes beheld.

  Before her stood a man cloaked in black from head to toe. The hand not grasping her arm looked more like a tree branch, withered and dark, with a sparking green flame coming right out of the palm. One shoulder was hunched up and higher than the other. The parts of his face not hidden in shadow were twisted and ugly. His cheeks were lumpy, his nose was bent, and h
e glared at her with one black eye, while the other was scarred and squinty.

  Beyond was a sort of chilly storeroom where stacks upon stacks of crates wavered in and out of view in the dim light. Barely able to be seen crouching in the shadows next to the crates was the cloaked figure of a woman. Darien could hardly take in any of these other sights, she was so mesmerized by the disfigured man in front of her. As scared as she was by his looks, she was even more intimidated by the powerful energy emanating from him.

  “Who are you? What are you doing spying on us?” the woman hissed at Darien. The man only continued to stare intensely at her.

  “I didn’t mean to . . . I—I just got lost . . . I didn’t know . . .” Darien stammered as she tried desperately to think of an explanation.

  “Lost?” the woman demanded. “I don’t think so, not here in a food cellar. Who sent you?”

  “Be quiet, Jaade,” the man whispered in his low hoarse voice. “I can see her.”

  “What?” the woman named Jaade said with disbelief. “But you’re almost blind! You can barely see your hand in front of your face in full daylight.”

  “Yes, but the fact remains that I can see her,” the man said to Jaade. He focused his attention back on Darien. “Why can I see you? Who are you? What kind of magic do you command?” he ordered her to answer.

  Before Darien could say anything, a warm amber light glowed from a vial tied around the man’s neck. This unexpected surprise made him gasp.

  “Jaade, look!” he cried out. When he turned to the woman, his grip on Darien relaxed and she wrenched out of his grasp.

  “Wait! Come back—” the man insisted, as Darien turned and ran back through the passageway. She didn’t give another thought to what might await her after leaving the storeroom. Her only wish was to get away from that frightening stare. (She might have learned much that would have been useful to her, had she not been so hasty, but that is not the way it happened.)

  In any case, Darien didn’t stop when she reached the doorway. She scrambled down on her hands and knees and crawled underneath the first cart she could reach, not even looking to see whether anyone was watching. She tucked her bundle in, then climbed up and wedged herself between the board and the underside of the cart, lying on her stomach. Then she buried her face in her hands and shook with the relief of escaping from the twisted man.

  * * *

  The cart ride was uncomfortable and tense, but it was nothing compared to the wait that preceded it. Darien had kept her head down for long minutes, nervously awaiting the sounds of yelling or raising an alarm. The sounds never came. If she had hesitated and slowed down she probably would have been spotted. Because she didn’t, however, she had been able to slip past unobserved. It had also helped that the guards were busy harassing a family near the back of the line, and the increasing number of vendors were all occupied with loading their goods into the limited number of carts.

  Darien had allowed herself to relax the tiniest bit, but she still felt on edge every time a pair of feet crunched past. It was at this time that her courage was at its lowest point. She felt like she was only running from one dangerous place to another, with no plan for what to do next. For the first time since being in this new place, she longed for the safety and familiarity of her own home. I can’t do this—I’m just a kid. I thought I could make a difference, but my parents were right; I should’ve stayed out of it. I failed at trying to get the elder dragons to help us, and now I’m stuck under this miserable cart with no way of knowing where to go or what to do to save Amani’s parents. They’re all depending on me, and I’m probably their last hope, but it’s too much! I don’t even know what I’m doing here.

  Half an hour had gone by while Darien waited, feeling discouraged and vulnerable. Her ribs were sore from lying against the hard wooden board, and her arms kept falling asleep since she had been using them to rest her head on.

  Finally, the first carts had started rolling toward the palace and Darien prepared herself to move as well. She had untied the knot in her tights, then used them to tie her shoes around her waist so her hands would be free. This time, she pushed the dragon scale deep inside the snagged leg of the tights, worried it might fall out if she left it loose in her shoe. She had also tied her inherited scarf around the board, hoping it would help her hold on if the ride was bumpy. It would be too funny, after all the hard work it took to get here and all this time waiting, if I just bounced right out on the first big bump.

  Darien’s cart had started off with a jerk, making her glad she had thought to use her scarf as a handle. She had felt, rather than seen, a single eye searching for her as the carts slowly rolled past the dark doorways. But no one had cried out any warnings about her, and soon Darien had all she could do to keep her grip on the splintery board beneath her.

  9

  Palace, Prison, and Plan

  Darien’s view during her difficult ride to the palace was limited to two wheels, one pair of worn boots, and a long, monotonous wall of rock. She had to squint to keep the dust out of her eyes. Although she couldn’t see much, she could feel how they rumbled downward and shivered as they got nearer to the chilly lake. She could feel how they never fully turned but kept to a gradual rightward course. Cutting through the ancient, dry smell of stony dust, she could smell bitterness from the water below, causing her to wonder about the water she had drunk earlier. And she could hear how the carts groaned when they veered sharply right, carrying their cargo onto the vast wooden bridge that joined the outer and inner cities together.

  Before anyone could enter the palace grounds they had to pass through another pair of metal gates set into a high stone archway. These gates were much more carefully guarded than the outer ones, and entry by outsiders was not generally permitted unless they were first interviewed, then watched over until their business at the palace was finished. One might think that the king was overly cautious, but he did have many legitimate reasons to be suspicious. Also, he knew what kind of devious plots to be suspicious of, since he had devised many himself before taking the throne.

  Two guards remained on duty at the gates that day, but they watched from their high seats and never had a clue about the small girl anxiously riding under the seventh cart. On a normal day, Darien would not have been able to depart from her cart unnoticed, because usually the supply carts were accompanied to the palace by one or two additional guards. But King Radburn, cautious though he was, was also hot-tempered and impulsive, so that when he heard of the dragon’s supposed attack on his city, he flew into a rage and ordered all but the most necessary guards away to hunt down the insolent beast. And so on this day, instead of the somber and methodical unloading of goods that was usual under the guards’ strict inspection, the palace workers and vendors greeted one another warmly, with laughter and an atmosphere of festivity in the air.

  Darien listened and waited, trying to decide whether to crawl out now and mix with the other people or continue to wait until everyone was gone. Both choices had risks of being seen, of being recognized as an outsider, of getting lost, of getting locked out—or any number of other things that Darien knew she could never even foresee. Making up her mind, she untied her scarf from the cart and crawled out on the side opposite the palace doors, thinking that if anyone saw her, she could say she had just gone under to retrieve her lost accessory. She stood up and dusted off the scarf, still putting on a show, and then arranged it over her shoulders like before, though she realized with relief that nobody had even looked her way. She retied her shoes into a bundle with her tights and tried to figure out what to do next.

  Feeling it would be safer among the families and passengers rather than the vendors, Darien drifted toward the end of the line of carts. She hoped that they would not remain outside the palace long; the longer she had to stand around alone, the more suspicious it would look. Fortunately, only a few minutes passed until wide service doors were thrown open, relea
sing a burst of noise and intense shifting light. The vendors began hurriedly unloading their goods onto waiting handcarts to be sent off to various parts of the palace. The passengers were led by a palace official past the cargo area and skirted an enormous kitchen filled with workers, servants, food, and huge fiery ovens. Darien tagged along a few feet behind the passengers, hoping to be overlooked by them and also by the kitchen staff.

  She needn’t have worried about the kitchen staff or servants. Most had no particular loyalty to the king—all they wanted was to get their work done and scrape by making a living that was only slightly higher than that of the outer city dwellers. And of course, tonight they were all preoccupied creating a hastily prepared feast, though no one except for the king and his group of specialized hunters knew about the dragons and what was planned for the grand finale.

  Even though King Radburn had only watched from a safe vantage point, publicly he would take most of the credit for capturing the dragons and returning triumphantly to his stronghold. The dragon hunters would grit their teeth and keep quiet, however; they would be paid generously after the dragons were slain. It was important at this time for the king to appear dominant and powerful. There were still plenty of people who suspected he had not received the kingship honestly, even if they were not openly protesting. So this would be a great opportunity for Radburn to win over many supporters who wanted to feel secure again and know their ruler was concerned about their protection. There would surely be some who would never change their minds about him, but he had a plan for them as well, one that would require stealth rather than this bold show of strength.