Lightfoot

by Joe Kuster

  Realizing she was still having trouble navigating the terrain, he fed her a thin thread of healing and began helping her body neutralize the alcohol. She sucked in a sharp breath, then leaned into him as she gave a contented sigh. Her hand curled around his collar as she tucked in under his arm. He could feel her body practically giddy at his mental touch.

  “Good work back there,” TJ said.

  Already seeming soberer, Rachel replied, “That was awesome. You made them explode.”

  TJ laughed. “Yeah, but that used way more of my magic than I wanted. It was a fun idea, though.”

  “We make a good team,” Rachel said.

  He squeezed his arm around her just a bit tighter, and she didn’t resist. “That we do. I think I’m going to enjoy our trip.”

  She laughed in return. “Don’t get too many ideas, but yeah, I’m looking forward to it too. I’m a little worried about how others will take it, but owing a debt to someone who aided you in combat is something my father understands. He won’t argue, or at least I think he won’t. Besides, I’ve been training up our steward and one of my father’s lieutenants to take over for what I’m doing. It’s past time for me to move on. Until I come back with battle stories, I don’t think he’ll see me as an adult.”

  “Battle… that is a weird idea. We don’t have predators or wars where I come from. I hear about them from others and our songs, but it’s not part of our lives,” TJ said.

  Rachel pursed her lip. “Sounds nice.”

  TJ shrugged. “Mmm… you’d think that, but the reason there aren’t wars is that the ones in control are impossibly powerful. They lure people in from other realms, toss them in our village, and expect us all to get along. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but any wrong move will get you killed.

  “I’ve seen children playing with dolls, and it’s a bit like that. They have us set up entertainment for them, theater, parties, dances, and things like that. They live in luxury, but we’re in little shacks. That way, anyone who wants to be comfortable or eat nice food needs to find a benefactor. They like us seeking them out and offering ourselves to them.

  “As distasteful as it is to admit, I’ve spent most of my adult life doing what Abby and Bethany do just so I can get by. Without a decent talent, that was the only way I could get a warm meal on most days, and that’s exactly how they like it.”

  Rachel blanched. “That’s… That’s terrible, TJ.”

  Sighing, TJ nodded. “They are so powerful, there’s no way anyone in the Meadow could challenge them. Although, if I get the chance, it’s something I’d like to do. That’s the long-term plan, anyway. It may just get me killed, but my magic really likes that idea. I want to free everyone and offer them a better place to go. That and maybe get a bit of payback in the process.”

  Rachel rubbed a hand at his shoulder. “If finding more spells is what you need, that sounds like a good place to start. I’d be honored to be part of something like that.”

  “I get the feeling overthrowing them is step two thousand and ten, and I’m currently on step two,” TJ replied.

  Rachel said, “Big changes take time, and that sounds like trying to stage a coup against the divine. Honestly, this sounds like it would be a chance for me to earn some honor in my own right. Perhaps even raise my family’s station.” Rachel went quiet for nearly a minute. “If… well… if you want, we could travel further than the elven islands. I keep having this feeling that I’ve got an opportunity here. A big one.”

  “If yesterday was anything to go off of, it would probably be hazardous to our health,” TJ said.

  Rachel gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’ve never shied away from danger. That and it’d be a lot safer with someone who can heal me. Really heal me, not just bumps and scrapes. I get the feeling your magic could bring me back from the brink. It’s powerful and inviting. You falling out of the sky to save me feels like an omen. I’d be an idiot to ignore that. Besides, I’m actually starting to like you.”

  “As in like, like?” TJ asked, turning to study her.

  She gave him a lopsided smirk and blushed. “You’re a lot more fun now that you’re not sulking. You’re handsome, powerful, wealthy, and have a mission in life that I can agree with. That’s pretty much everything I’m told I’m supposed to seek out in a courtship. So… I am.

  “These things take time, usually years. The first step is filing a notice. It’s more of an intent to get to know each other to keep it from being scandalous. I’d also have to have permission from my father, but I can send him a letter. That might be the safer way of doing it, anyway.”

  TJ chewed on his lip. “I can’t even imagine filing paperwork to date someone. It wouldn’t be a problem that I’m not nobility?”

  “It won’t be a problem. Spellcasters are granted their own status; you only need to have a representative from the Guild of Mages test you, but even I can establish your filing. Powerful magicians are considered higher in rank than my family. A weak one is treated close to our level or perhaps a little lower. I think the king uses the titles to keep tabs on magi, but I don’t really know why. So… it really wouldn’t be a problem. At least, not if both parties agree to the intent of courtship,” Rachel said.

  There was an obvious question couched in her statement, one that TJ had no issues picking apart.

  His magic caressed a sharp dagger of power across his body. The implied threat was clear. Thankfully, TJ didn’t have any objections. If this gave him a chance to spend more time with her, he’d take it.

  “I, uh… sure? I mean, yes. Sorry, this is a weird way to go about it for me, but I’m certainly interested,” TJ replied, then winced as a thought occurred. “It won’t be a problem with my oaths, will it? You, uh, know what that means, right? They aren’t going to go away.”

  She chewed on her lip, picking her words carefully. “Given your situation… I’ve decided not to pick a fight with your goddess. It’ll look poorly, but it’s clear what her expectations for you were. If Serina finds you, and I sincerely hope that she does, she might not be happy if I objected to your oaths while not offering up, uhm… alternatives.”

  “So, you’re saying you don’t mind what I do in my spare time?” TJ asked with a smirk.

  “I’m not looking forward to the rumors, so it would be preferable if you can keep such matters discreet. Hopefully, we can keep people focused on your actions at the brickworks, and perhaps they’ll not be as brazen as to speculate. Travelers certainly stay at the Red Briar without taking advantage of all they offer. Besides, it’s not like I have other prospects here. Father made sure of that. I was ten years old the last time I had a boyfriend, and if I ruled out everyone who had visited a brothel, I’d be stuck marrying a priest.” She gave an involuntary shudder, as though that were the worst possible outcome.

  Reading between the lines, TJ couldn’t help but feel immensely indebted to her father. She’d already commented that he sought out the madam’s attentions, so Rachel didn’t seem too upset about TJ doing something similar. Simultaneously, the man had more or less been a hypocritical ass that made sure she was kept away from any men that might try to lure her away. Given that it all worked in his favor, TJ made a mental note to get the man something generous for a solstice gift.

  “Oh… do you have a surname? If not, you’ll need to choose one and file for your standing. I can send the notice for you if you let me know what to send,” she said.

  “Ugh. Of course, you’d ask that.” TJ sucked in a long breath. “My full title is Tadriel-Valandras Sablima-Diesporata Eglatarieon Jen Lightfoot of the Breeze Dancers of Eden’s Meadow. Lightfoot is the clan name, which is probably what you’d use for a surname here.”

  “Oh my. That’s quite the mouthful,” she said with a chuckle. “I think I might need you to write that down.”

  “And, that right there is why I go by TJ,” he said with a grin. “Back home we add our ancestors into children’s names. Each generation, something gets tacked on
until a new clan is formed or they join another. It’s their way of easily telling that I’m a fifth-generation Lightfoot and from what family branch. Jen is my father’s name, which is why it’s tacked on at the end.”

  She mused, “Hmm, House Lightfoot. A bit unusual, but I think it should work. Just be aware that the king may require tasks of you if you are to be recognized formally as peerage. The big rules are simple: don’t be treasonous, collect taxes on his behalf if you are granted land, and protect the kingdom in the event he calls up his liege levies. That last one doesn’t happen often. He has a standing army that’s so large he rarely has to ask his vassals for assistance.”

  Unsure of how else to ask, he just put it out there. “Is it normal for people who just met to go through this? The filing for an intent thing, I mean.”

  Rachel scrunched up her face. “The kingdom loves their paperwork. The king is pledged to a god that values order above all else. So, most noble families file for an intent before the intended are allowed to meet in the first place. It’s all carefully managed. As I said, this isn’t a form of commitment; it’s simply getting to know one another. It weeds out fraudulent lineage claims. Paperwork is filed in secret, even in the case of affairs. This ensures appropriate documentation in case the union results in an unrecognized child of noble blood. I’m guessing this isn’t done in your realm?”

  TJ shook his head. “No. Paper is almost exclusively used for the arts. Usually, it’s for drawing, music sheets, or songwriting. That and we aren’t allowed to be married. It might make us unavailable for our… captors. That’s why the names are so important. It’s the only way we’re allowed to show a connection between mother and father. Anything else is forbidden. No exchanged symbols or ceremonies of a permanent union are allowed. We hear about it from the outside, but it’s a quick way to get a… well, captor making life hell.”

  Rachel screwed up her face, then began looking rather angry. “The more I learn about your old world and those who run it, the more I think I’m going to enjoy assisting House Lightfoot in tearing them down. Yes, I’ll file our paperwork in the morning and then tell Father I did it in his name. He left me his signet ring and seals, and I believe it’s better to beg forgiveness in this case.”

  TJ was a bit surprised that she was handling this in such a matter-of-fact way. Back home, people hooked up and separated as the wind blew. However, she wasn’t looking at him longingly or with lust in her eyes. Instead, she seemed to have examined the situation and come to a calculated decision. He wondered if that was part of what it meant to be in the nobility.

  He was about to ask, but Rachel tripped over a hole in the ground and was nearly sent flat. Chuckling, he caught her, then pulled her back to his side.

  He briefly wondered if his healing might let him impart a bit of his night vision to her. His magic had recognized the structural differences in her eyes. It was just missing the reflective coating at the back that he assumed most animals that could see well in the dark had. If his magic could regrow flesh, he didn’t know why that would be impossible.

  Nearing the dump, he set a path toward the bonfire they’d lit. He was wholly consumed in pondering about how his powers could modify someone else, and to what extent when a movement in the darkness caught his attention. Spotting them at the same time, Rachel yelped and pulled her dagger as two dark bodies moved into the light of the fire.

  TJ’s eyes went wide as he watched two demon dogs sniffing at the bloodied bodies of their kin. Raising a nose to the air, one whirled, then the other. Four sets of fangs bared in unison as the two creatures snarled and hunkered down.

  “What do we do here, Rachel?” TJ hissed. He involuntarily flexed his wings under his robes but knew they were still too injured for flight, much less trying to carry them both to safety.

  “Nuuhhh… I… ah shit,” Rachel stammered then looked toward the bridge back into town. Standing in the middle of the bridge was a robed figure with their black hood pulled low.

  She pointed and yelled, “You! On the bridge, ring the bells and call for the guard!”

  The silhouette didn’t move at first, then after several seconds, they began to return to the village at a slow walk as though they hadn’t heard the plea for help.

  Rachel cursed as her hand tightened on her dagger.

  TJ’s mind spun, working up a plan, but the cursed beasts didn’t give him a chance. Springing into action, they tore across the dump in their direction.

  Grabbing a nearby broken wooden crate with his kinetic force, he flung it into the lead animal’s head and knocked it into the bonfire and left it pinned to the coals. The beast snarled and flopped as it sent sparks into the air, trying to get free.

  Taking aim at the second one, he fired off his magic as it closed within ten feet. The blast tore one of its heads off in a spray of gore, but its momentum carried it forward.

  “Bad dog! Down!” TJ yelled as he was knocked to the ground.

  The still-intact head snapped its fangs, missing his face by inches. TJ fought, reaching into his chest and struggling to put together enough magic for another blast. He had half of it ready, but the magical tendril ground around inside him, looking for the rest.

  He was about to force it to draw on his own lifeforce, but in a flash of silver, a dagger sunk deep into its spine, just behind the animal’s skull. The animal collapsed like someone had cut its strings. Rachel tugged at her blade, trying to free it as TJ pushed the beast off him.

  As she jerked at the handle of her weapon, her eyes went wide. She was dragged to the ground with a deep snarl and gave out a horrifying scream of pain.

  Eyes wide in panic, TJ lunged for the dagger. With a roar of effort, he yanked it free and drove it into the back of the animal that was viciously mauling his companion. He thrust the blade over and over into any part of it he could reach. Finally managing to sever something important, he kicked at it as it wheezed its last breath. Scrambling, TJ pulled Rachel’s body free and froze.

  The beast had torn a chunk out of her neck, and blood spurted out in rapid pulses. The other head had ripped open her stomach. Steam rose around the twisted pile of torn organs that spilled from the gore-soaked hole in her dress. A familiar black gel seeped at the edge of the punctured flesh.

  Rachel’s blue eyes were wide with terror as she looked down at herself. Her jaw trembled, and she gave a pained sob. Whimpering and in shock, she balled her fists into the fabric of her ruined outfit.

  “I… I… didn’t see it,” she cried.

  TJ pressed at her stomach, frantically trying to put things back where they belonged. At the same time, he tried to keep pressure on the wound on her neck, but her blood kept pumping around his fingers. He reached into himself but already knew what he’d find. His magic was barely there.

  Focusing on trying to keep her alive and conscious, he attempted to stop the worst of the bleeding. The warm glow of his touch seeped into her body. His mind reeled as his magic told him how extensive the damage was.

  Concentrating on her neck, he dumped what he had into repairing the torn arteries. The blood leaving her body continued but at a slower rate. He began trying to stop the bleeding elsewhere, but the golden glow flickered, then winked out.

  “You’ve gotta hold on. What do I do, Rachel? Do I take you to Gerald?” TJ pleaded.

  Jaw trembling, she shook her head. “He… he can’t fix this. No one can. The nearest doctor is a two-day ride.”

  Swallowing, TJ looked desperately around but found no help amid the debris that surrounded the dump. Reaching into his robes, he pulled his father’s flask free. He dribbled a few drops at the black goo. Nothing happened at first, but slowly, the cursed sludge began to hiss and retreated from her body. The blight bubbled and smoked as it dissolved into the ground.

  He sloshed the remaining contents, trying to judge what was left, but he already knew it wasn’t enough. It would only numb the pain as he lost his only friend in this world. Deciding he’d have to try anyway, he up
ended it into his mouth. He downed the last dregs and threw his father’s flask to the side.

  Tears dripped free as Rachel sniffed. “I’m cold, TJ. I’m really cold.”

  “Hang on… just…” TJ trailed off as despair set in.

  Rachel’s lips quivered. “Is Serina nice?”

  TJ nodded his head and wiped away her tears. “She’s the only bright spot among her kind. She’s kind and playful. She can make you feel like everything is going to be ok.”

  “The gods here are cruel. I think… I think I’d rather go with you,” she said.

  TJ started, “Don’t talk like that. Just… stay with me.”

  She shook her head. “I mean it, TJ. I don’t want to end up with Timarat. I… I don’t want him to use me like that. Just tell me how to…”

  “I… I don’t know, Rachel. I swore my life and soul to her.” Realizing it was worth another shot, he screamed out, “SERINA! Help her! Please!”

  He waited for a sign, but he knew none was coming. TJ closed his eyes and shook his head. “She’s not here. She’s not listening. I can’t do what you want me to do.”

  Rachel struggled to swallow as the light began to dim behind her eyes. “Then… I’ll swear to you. I swear my life and soul to you, TJ. Just… take care of me.”

  A crushing pressure settled over the pair, and TJ felt something trying to force its way into where his magic lived. It poked with desperate need.

  Understanding dawned on him, and TJ wept as he opened himself to the feeling. Like opening a door into a windstorm, a golden pressure surged into him and rush to fill every part of the void. He burst into a brilliant golden glow, then darkness filled his vision as he lost consciousness.

  Body wracked by uncontrollable shivers, TJ struggled through the haze that covered his mind. He cracked an eye that was crusted shut with blood. Steam was rising around… something. As he recognized the twisted gray pile, he inhaled sharply and jerked away.

  It was still dark, and he’d fainted face-first into Rachel’s open gut wound. Her body lay unmoving, her eyes closed.