by Travis Bughi
“What was that?” Nicholas asked.
“Dragon scales, I think,” Abe shrugged. “I really don’t know. They could be anything. Well, alright, we better start heading back. It took us awhile to get here, so it’s going to take us awhile to get back. I’ll bet Mother and Father will need our help soon anyway.”
“Aahh,” Nicholas whined.
No further protest was made, and the trio was walking again. Emily looked back to the water once, watching the ocean disappear when they re-entered the crowded streets. Emily’s mind wandered, and she was soon thinking about Sir Gavin Shaw, his handsome smile, and his grand looking pegasus. She strained her ears to hear any shouts about knights, but the chatter of people was too thick. She tried to peek down each road to see if the crowds were parting way for the angels’ soldiers, but she was sadly disappointed.
They found a cart loaded with cloth to help clear their way, but they couldn’t walk directly behind it, for the leprechaun who owned the cart had two ogres following behind her. Emily and her brothers thought it best to keep their distance from the lumbering, purple-skinned brutes. One was carrying a heavy club in both hands that looked more like a rock strapped onto the end of large tree branch. The other held a brutal, double-sided axe. They grunted as they walked and glared with yellow eyes at anyone who dared get too close to the cart or the leprechaun.
Emily spent more time staring at the cart than the ogres, though. It was stacked full with bolts and layers of every type of cloth, from linen to silk, in more colors than she knew existed. Several shades of purple, orange, red, and green captivated her attention and made her lips part. It wasn’t a huge cartload, for there was only one unicorn pulling it, but still Emily wondered where such materials and colors came from. Out on the plains they grew cotton to spin their own clothes and harvested leather for tougher material, so the idea of wearing silk had never ventured into Emily’s mind. Now, she had the curious desire to touch it.
Ahead, the leprechaun held up a hand and gave the reins a tug to stop the cart’s advance. For being such a small thing, she sure did command attention well. The unicorn obeyed the slight gesture and halted in its tracks. The ogres did, too, and they took up post at the back of the cart, hefting their weapons with twitchy fingers.
The Stouts moved off to the side to pass the cart and kept their eyes low to avoid the ogres’ gaze. Emily looked ahead and then back to the cart. A small corner of silk cloth had slipped through the cart’s guardrails and hung out for all to see. Emily contemplated reaching out to touch it.
I only want to know what it feels like, she reasoned.
The corner got closer, and she felt her arm tingle with curiosity. With a deep breath, she forced herself to look ahead and ignore the cloth. She would not be tempted, she decided, and walked onwards. A smile spread across her face at her ability to resist the urge. The ogres would not have looked kindly upon such an action.
“Eh!” a deep, clearly inhuman voice shouted. “You no touch!”
Emily whirled around to see the ogre with the axe take a large step forward. It had been his deep voice that had shouted. His yellow eyes were wide, and his face was twisted in what looked like an evil grin. He looked eager, the anticipation of violence twitching his every muscle. His grin was all the more sinister, because, between the two tusks that grew up from his bottom lip, there was an exposed row of jagged teeth and dripping drool.
Emily thought to protest and yell that she had done nothing wrong, but the ogre wasn’t looking at Emily. He was staring straight at Nicholas, who had frozen in terror. He was apparently so frightened that he still hadn’t taken his hand off the silk corner that hung out from the cart—so frightened that he wouldn’t even turn around to look at the ogre who was now lifting his axe into the air above Nicholas’ head.
“Run!” Abe shouted.
Chapter 9
Abe and Emily grabbed their younger brother by the hand and dashed off through the crowd. Abe lead the way, switching to grip Emily’s hand tightly, while she in turn held her mischievous younger brother’s hand tighter. The sound of heavy metal colliding with the ground shook Emily like a behemoth’s step, and she almost stumbled. Abe darted between gaps in the crowd as fast as he could, yanking his siblings along, though they struggled to keep up with his long strides. Behind them, the murmur of the crowd was broken by yelps as the ogre knocked people aside. Emily heard him snarl and growl, and people screamed as the beast tried to push his way through.
Yet he was slow—so very slow in comparison to the three thin farmers—and fear was a much better motivator than anticipation. As badly as the ogre wanted to kill them, they wanted to get away more. They bounded up the streets, taking corner after corner, a right followed by a left, which was followed by a right. The ogre’s snarls disappeared quickly, but Emily dared not look back to see if he had given up the chase. Abe took another corner then jumped into a narrow alley, pulling his two siblings in with him. It was dark, the sun’s light unable to penetrate this slit between buildings, and Abe pushed them up against one of the walls. Breathing hard but trying to hide it, he carefully peered around the corner back the way they’d come.
A few seconds passed while the cold, shady stones stole heat from their bodies. Emily and Nicholas took deep breaths as quietly as they could.
“It’s okay now,” Abe said. “I think we lost him.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Nicholas sighed with relief.
Emily pushed off the wall, pulled back an arm and socked her younger brother hard in the shoulder.
“Ow!” he yelled. “What was that for?”
“What do you think it was for?” Emily yelled and then punched Nicholas again. “You almost got us killed!”
“Well I’m sorry!” Nicholas said defensively.
“Quiet!” Abe said, stepping in. “Look, Nicholas, Emily’s right. You almost got us killed! You’ll be lucky if I don’t tell Mother about this.”
At the mention of Mother’s fury, Nicholas stiffened. He was more afraid of her than the ogre.
“No, Abe, please don’t! I’m sorry! Really! I won’t do it again!”
“Then don’t touch anything, ever, you understand?” Abe stressed.
Nicholas looked to Emily for support, but she gave him a cold stare that left no room for sympathy.
“Okay,” he said. “I only wanted to touch it, though. I’ve never felt silk before.”
“Well, it was almost the last thing you ever got to touch besides cold steel,” Emily said.
The adrenaline started to fade, and Nicholas realized the foolishness of his actions. He tilted his head forward and looked down.
“I’m sorry, Emily. I thought they wouldn’t notice.”
Emily sighed in anger but then just shook her head.
“It’s fine now,” she said. “You learned your lesson, right? Just don’t touch anything that isn’t yours anymore.”
“Yeah,” Abe added. “Lucifan is really particular about that kind of thing. Got it?”
Nicholas nodded in agreement. Abe checked around the corner one last time, and then led the group back out into the streets. They were still breathing heavily. The running was only part of the reason their hearts had been pounding. Emily looked down at her hand and noticed it was shaking a bit. She hadn’t been this scared since the banshee had come through their farm.
“Do you still know where we’re going?” Emily asked.
Abe looked around and then back the way they came.
“Somewhat, yes.”
He started walking west, away from the ocean.
“I think, if we head up this way, we can cut back towards the market square,” he paused. “I think.”
Emily did not find that comforting, but she followed her older brother anyway.
It didn’t take long to see that they weren’t in the main part of town anymore. The streets were smaller, and there were far fewer people. The buildings were smaller, too, made of wood and much older. The entire place seemed da
rker somehow, and there was a stench in the air that got stronger as they walked. It wasn’t a pungent smell, but a stale odor that spoke of better times.
They turned another corner and found themselves in a curiously deserted and quiet street. Abe hesitated at the corner but then strolled forward, taking long glances left and right. Emily eyed her brother and sighed.
“You’re lost,” she said.
“Not lost,” he replied too fast. “It’s just, well, I’ve never been to this side of Lucifan. I’ve only been a few times with Mother and Father, and we stuck to the main roads. I just need to ask for directions.”
“Should we go back?” Nicholas asked.
Emily pictured the ogre stalking the streets, grinding its huge axe in purple hands. When Abe looked back to her, she gave her head a strong shake.
“Well, we have to talk to someone,” Abe shrugged.
“Knock on a door,” Emily replied.
“I’m not knocking on some random person’s door,” Abe recoiled at Emily’s suggestion. “We’ll just find someone walking about. This is Lucifan. It shouldn’t be that hard.”
Yet they had wandered into an empty street, and Emily began to feel uneasy. She stepped closer to her brothers as she walked, and her eyes were slowly adjusting to the lack of light penetrating these narrower streets with houses and buildings that seemed to loom overhead. For a moment, Emily reconsidered going back, but then a door on one of the buildings ahead swung open.
An older woman—older than Emily’s mother, anyway—in an apron with her hair tied into a bun stepped out to sweep dirt into the streets. Above the door hung a sign that read The Kraken’s Eye, and the woman looked up as the trio walked closer. Emily went to wave, but the woman ignored them and went back inside, closing the door behind her.
“There’s a person,” Emily said, “and that’s a big home.”
“It’s a tavern, not a home,” Abe corrected. “People pay to sleep here at night, and they have drinks and food.”
They stopped outside the tavern and looked at the sign above it. It was wooden, perhaps as long and wide as Emily’s arm, and had the image of an eye chiseled into it. It was just the eye, too, one without lids and lashes. The eye was round, but the iris that surrounded the pupil was stretched vertically in a long oval shape that ended in points at the top and bottom. Inside the iris, the pupil was shaped liked an hourglass—it was like none Emily had ever seen. The eye was glaring down and seemed to peer into the souls of the approaching patrons.
From inside, Emily could hear a woman’s laughter. She assumed it to be the barmaid she’d seen. Some light music was being played, but it was muffled too badly for Emily to know what it was.
“I’ll be right back,” Abe said and reached for the door. “Watch Nicholas.”
“Hey!” Nicholas pouted.
Emily didn’t want to let her older brother go alone, but he was right. She couldn’t leave Nicholas outside and certainly didn’t want to risk his curious behavior inside. So instead, she just sighed in defeat and shushed her younger brother.
“Okay,” she nodded, “but don’t be long.”
Abe nodded and disappeared inside.
Emily wasn’t sure what to expect next, but she didn’t expect to hear a sharp whistle. There was more laughter from inside, and in short time, the door was opened again, and Abe was practically shoved through the opening. He stumbled and fell face first onto the cobbled steps.
“Stay out, you mindless brute,” a girl called out, followed by a cheer.
The door slammed shut, and Emily and Nicholas rushed over to help their brother up.
“What happened?” Emily asked. “Are you alright?”
“What did those men do to you?” Nicholas asked.
Abe stood up and brushed himself off.
“They weren’t men,” he said. “It’s just a bunch of women, and they told me to get out.”
“What else did they say?” Nicholas asked.
“Nothing I want to repeat.”
Emily listened again to the laughter inside.
“Wait,” Emily asked. “It’s only women in there?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Abe angrily swatted the dirt from his pants. “Come on, let’s go.”
Abe started trudging off into the streets, and Nicholas followed, but Emily didn’t move. She turned toward the tavern and listened to another round of laughter vibrate through the old wood and opaque, glass windows. A steady yet obvious theory was entering her mind.
“Emily,” Abe called, stopping when he realized his sister hadn’t moved. “Come on.”
“All women you said?” she asked. “Did they kick you out because you’re a man?”
Abe paused, the anger in his eyes shifting as he slowly picked up on Emily’s words.
“Maybe,” he said, “but I don’t know for sure. You don’t think. . . ?”
He let the words wander, and Emily’s eyes set alight with possibility. She mulled her new plan over for only a second before opening the tavern door and walking inside.
“Emily!” her brothers cried out.
Their voices were cut off as she closed the door behind her. Their muffled footsteps stopped just outside the door, and Emily held the handle just to make sure they didn’t try to follow. It was darker inside, and it took a moment for Emily’s eyes to adjust. The sound of laughter died out, and Emily could sense a hoard of eyes on her back. With a deep breath, she let go of the closed door and turned around.
Abe had been right. The tavern was comprised entirely of women. Among them, Emily recognized the woman from before, broom still in hand, but she was the only woman who looked like she was from Lucifan, with her brown dress, white tunic, and leather shoes. As for the rest of the tavern’s patrons, Emily decided they were the most peculiar women she’d ever seen. They didn’t wear the dresses common to the city or the work clothes favored out on the plains. Instead, they wore skirts barely knee-length made of thick leather stitched with metal studs. Their upper torsos were also encased in studded leather, and their calves were covered with the armor as well. Only their sandals lacked the metal studs, and all the armor was a patchwork of green and brown. Next, Emily noticed that all the women had their hair cut to shoulder length. It was like hers, just like her mother’s.
As if her suspicions needed further proof, Emily saw the bows. Each woman had a bow lying against her, and next to that bow, a quiver of arrows. It took a few seconds for Emily to take it all in, and she noticed, quite painfully, that by now every person in the bar was staring at her.
She gulped.
“Well,” the tavern maid questioned. “What is it girl? You’re a bit too young to be drinking now, ain’t you?”
“Eh! She’s a woman, Margret!” one of the others spoke up. “Maybe not an amazon, but certainly better than those fleabags you normally call customers.”
Margret waved her hand, dismissing the argument.
Amazons, Emily could hear the word echo in her mind. They really are amazons!
Emily’s heart skipped a beat and jumped into her throat. She looked at their hair and now knew why her mother never grew hers past her shoulders. She looked at the bow that each amazon carried, the quivers full of arrows, and the large knives that hung at every amazon’s waist and began to conjure all the questions she had for them. She wanted to ask them where they came from, what the jungles of Themiscyra were like, and what sort of woman her mother had been.
Then Emily remembered her mother, and the fact that her mother had left these women, and that she’d hid from them for nearly twenty years. At best, they probably didn’t remember her. At worst, they might not take too kindly to Molly having left in the first place.
And suddenly, Emily strongly regretted going into the tavern.
“Well, what is it, girl?” Margret repeated.
“Uh,” Emily started and backed up against the door. “I, uh.”
The last traces of conversation died out and complete silence took over
as all attention was turned towards the stuttering, little girl.
“I was just,” she tried again, “with my brothers and—”
The tavern erupted into laughter.
“That was your brother, lass?” one asked.
“Oh! Oh! I see it now!”
“You can see it in the lanky limbs!”
“Now, now, Adelpha,” another spoke up. “He was kind of cute.”
“He was a farmer!” the one called Adelpha replied. “And barely of age to be of any use.”
That comment caused a second uproar of laughter, and Emily looked at the amazon named Adelpha. She couldn’t have been more than a few years older than Abe, but she was certainly bigger. Not fat, though—none of the amazons were overweight. They all looked athletic and strong, but Adelpha looked strongest. She was tall for a woman and had broad shoulders with straight, jet-black hair.
I never should have come in here, Emily thought. This was a mistake.
“Look!” Emily burst in, finding her voice in the laugher. “We just need to get back to the market. We’re lost, and we were just hoping you could point us in the right direction.”
Just then, a thunder of footsteps came echoing down the stairs. They fell heavy and fast, and the thud of feet pounding wood swept over all else. From the second story descended another one of the strange women. Only this one was older, much older. She took the steps two at a time, though Emily did not think that was a wise choice, and the moment the old woman’s head came into view, her eyes stared straight at Emily.
The old woman was short, and her skin bore sundried wrinkles that almost masked the freckles on her faces. Her grey hair looked both wavy and stiff, but her eyes captured Emily’s attention. In them, Emily saw a magnificent look of hope, of longing, and a hint of regret. Then, as the eyes gazed upon Emily, that hope burst into sadness, pain, and loss. The old woman stopped her mad dash and hung onto the railing to catch her breath. She looked down in agony that did not appear to be born of physical pain.