by David Ekrut
“What the thump are you doing here, kid? Did Brinnon send you?”
“Who? I’m just trying to get away from—”
“No time, Jax,” the Kalicodian said, pointing up.
“Hey you, stop! Thieves!”
Two guards came running onto the balcony, both aiming crossbows in their direction.
Elwin felt more than heard the stomping of boots as the mob surged forward. At the same time, the guards above took aim and fired.
Chapter 25
By the Guardians
Dear Anetia,
Your kindness overwhelms me. Had you not sent this gift, I would have forgotten my own nameday. These stone pieces for my Wakening board are phenomenally detailed. As always, I am in awe of your skill, and I will find someone to play the game. I promise.
~R., 2996 A.S.
Partial Spending, Day 361 of experimentation.
Having concluded my studies in transmutation, I will move onto clairvoyance. If my hypothesis is correct, this will allow me to more deeply investigate the link between Abaddon’s transcendency and the dragon’s slumber. Eleandarinius has volunteered to be a participant of this study. With her guidance, we will burn essence to look backward in time.
~Ricaria Beratum, 2996 A.S.
~
Feffer watched Zarah run east for the treeline behind a barn, instantly regretting not following her into the woods. From the northern edge of the farm, more than twenty fully-armed guardians stepped onto the fields. All that stood between Feffer and certain death were a few dozen rows of wheat.
He leapt into a sprint and ran west, back toward the road they’d followed to get here. If those bandits were still about, he could steer the guardians into the waiting ambush. With any luck, they’d fight each other and forget all about little, old him.
There were shouts for him to stop. He never slowed, despite their promises of quarter. Seeing as they were setting arrows to strings, their assurances were somewhat spoiled. A few heartbeats later, an arrow thudded into the tree beside him.
Feffer cursed as several more whizzed around him. He veered hard to his right and dove behind the trees alongside the road. He rolled to his feet and kept moving. If he lived through this, Zarah owed him. Though, she still hadn’t paid the gold she’d wagered him back in Justice, so he wasn’t likely to see a copper from her anytime soon. Not that he was doing this for coin, but a soldier needed to eat, right?
Then a thought occurred to him. What if he never found her after this? They hadn’t exactly reasoned through this plan. Circling back to the road only made sense though. For a prat, she could think well on her feet. She still needed to reach the king’s library and would need to follow the road back to the city. He would find a place to hide and wait for her. If she didn’t come this way, he could find his own way into the city and seek out the king.
He saw movement ahead and slowed to a jog.
When he heard a terrible birdcall from an obviously human throat, he stopped. Seconds later, three men stepped into the path far ahead of him. None wore a uniform, and each carried different weapons. One had a short sword, the other a cutlass, and the last a longsword. Two carried crossbows. The one in the lead had a bow slung over his shoulder.
Well, he’d found the bandits, and he could hear the guardians tearing through the woods behind him on both sides of the road. Perhaps it had not been the best idea to use himself as a lure to set two large forces against one another. Extricating himself from this battle would prove difficult.
“Throw down your sword,” the bandit on the left said. He gestured with his crossbow, not quite aiming it at Feffer.
“The guardians are coming,” Feffer said between breaths. “We need to run.”
“Nice try,” the man in the middle said. “They know better than to come this far west. Drop the weapon or die.“
“Do you not hear that?” Feffer gestured in the direction of the stampeding men. “We only have a few seconds until they are on us.”
The man’s eyes widened, “Look alive, men. The guardians are—”
An arrow struck the bandit’s shoulder. He spat a curse and called orders to the others. Feffer could feel the bullseye on his own back and darted away from the road. A guardian wielding a sword appeared from the forest at a run. Feffer pivoted behind a tree. Bark flew as the blade thunked into the thick wood. Feffer drew his belt knife and lunged. The small blade sunk into his attacker’s throat, sending a jolt down his arm. Wide eyes stared at him.
Feffer yanked his knife free. Less red gleamed on the naked steel than he would have guessed. More of it was on his wrist and sleeve. The man stumbled and fell against a tree, clutching his neck in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood. He slumped against the ground, eyes aimed at Feffer in a mixture of confusion and accusation.
“Shouldn’t have attacked me,” Feffer said, annoyed at his own defensive tone. “This is your own fault.”
The man tried to respond but could only sputter. His hands fell limply to his sides, fingers still clenching and unclenching. He let out one last wheeze. His grimace relaxed, then his gaze went beyond Feffer. Red pooled beneath the guardian’s hand, spreading over the yellow and orange leaves.
Boots stomped the road behind him. Clashing steel clanged to battle cries and screams of pain all around. More bandits had appeared from somewhere. Good thing he hadn’t tried to fight those three.
An arrow struck the tree next to him. Yep, it was time to be gone from here. Using the trees as shields from the arrows, Feffer ran.
Even after the echoes of fighting grew faint, he forced himself to keep going. Only when his legs burned and his lungs were aflame did he slow.
He looked down to see he was still clutching the knife. He sheathed the weapon. His palm was painted red with a crisscross pattern from the knife’s pommel. The lines along the crevices and beneath his nails were so dark, they appeared black.
Kneeling, he picked up a handful of dead leaves and wiped the blood from his hands as best he could.
Curse it all, how would he find Zarah now? She might be a royal prat, but she needed him. She was only half as clever as she believed, and he wasn’t too proud to admit he needed her too. She would hear the fighting and find a different path to the city. It would be fine. He needed to keep going.
Using the sun as a guide, he found north and started walking. He would reach the city of Alcoa eventually, or a road that led to it. Or he would—
Something snapped beneath his foot.
A sound like a ladder falling echoed through the trees. Looking down, he saw the rope around his ankle, too late to do anything about it. When it yanked him upward, he felt a weightlessness that reminded him briefly of flying with Elwin, before pain erupted into his face.
~
Zarah had only run south for a mile before turning west. She knew the guardians were tracking her, so their ruse had not worked. They had separated for nothing.
Every few minutes, she could see apparitions of them appear behind her, which meant they couldn’t be far, a minute at the most. Only half had gone after Feffer. The other half had pursued her.
She turned north to circle back around to the main road. Feffer would likely go that way to Alcoa, and she could lose her pursuers on the cobblestones. She would need to take cares. Those bandits, Dalthumas Carpeci’s men, would still be around here somewhere.
Unless the farmer had lied about that too.
For all she knew, they were just the regular variety of bandits and not organized by some criminal mastermind. How had she been so foolish? She had already begun to rely on her visions so completely to warn her of danger, she never saw the betrayal coming. She had taken his nervousness as the normal wariness one might have toward strangers carrying weapons, and she had thought no more of it. Now Feffer was taken or worse. No. Surely they would not kill him outright, not if they
thought him the guard to a noble.
She heard the sounds of battle ahead and stopped.
Drawing her sword, she ran the rest of the way, slowing at the ridge. A large slope led to the western road, where guardians adorned in chainmail fought with touched swords against warriors in mixed armor and a multitude of varying weapons.
On the other side of what might as well be a chasm, she saw Feffer through the trees. He backed away from a dead guardian, blood dripping from his dagger. He turned and ran north. She wanted to call out to him, but apparitions of guardians surrounded her.
Zarah wished, not for the first time, she could just take to the skies. As much as all of these men deserved whatever mercy a dragon would give to them, she could not tame. She could only assume taming even a trickle of power would take away her ability to see the future. These visions only began after she had abstained from taming for a month.
Instead, she held her sword high and leapt forward. Zarah slid more than bounded down the slope, doing her best not to fall as she aimed to go behind the guardians on the road. Once she neared the bottom, she jumped into a forward roll, coming up at a run. Watching the possible futures, Zarah chose the course that would take her to the other side without becoming entangled with any of the fights. One of the guardians took note of her, but he was otherwise engaged with two of Carpeci’s men.
Instead, he yelled. “Get the noblewoman. Don’t let her escape!”
She spared a glance over her shoulder. None of those fighting on the road came for her, but several of the guardians that had been tracking her appeared on the ridge. Already, their future selves were filling the street.
Zarah fled.
As she ran, she strained to see farther into the future, but she could see no further signs of Feffer. She continued north. With any luck, he wouldn’t veer. After several miles, she found a patch of blood and a dagger. It was Feffer’s. Why had he left the weapon?
Feffer had been here not very long ago. He must have headed toward the city in hopes of finding a way in. It would be easier to hide in the alleys where trackers would have trouble finding boot prints.
She broke into a sprint, but stopped when she heard a groan from above.
Looking up, she saw Feffer dangling by one leg from a rope trap several paces off the ground. Half of his face was red, and his eye was swollen and bruised. He blinked, lifting his head as if trying to orient himself. His eyes flittered closed, and he shook his head as if fighting sleep.
“Feffer,” she said in a loud whisper.
“Zarah?” His expression became alert, and he looked around as if expecting enemies from all sides.
“How did you get yourself into this?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter. Can you get me down? I lost my sword.” He pointed to the ground.
She saw his sword a few paces away. She sheathed her own weapon and picked up his blade. It was the same weight as hers and also touched, not that it would do her much good. Following the rope to the branch above, she quickly lost track of the line. There had to be a counter weight somewhere to have lifted him so high, but which way was it? And why did they even have rope traps out here?
Turning about, she saw apparitions of men carrying weapons surround Feffer. They were not looking at her. Each man looked up. Some gave sadistic grins, but the one whose mouth moved wore a stoic expression.
She followed their gazes up to Feffer who looked at her with deep concern.
“They are coming, aren’t they?” he asked.
Zarah nodded.
“Go. Hurry. Before they see you.”
“I will not leave you.”
“Both of us being captured will do neither of us any good. Go.”
She covered his dagger with leaves, making sure he saw it. “Don’t you die, Feffer Madrowl. I still have plans for you, you idiot.”
“I’ll be fine, princess. Just go for Life’s sake.”
She moved a few dozen paces away from Feffer and dropped behind a thicket of trees. Peeking around, she could just see him through the foliage. Within a few heartbeats, the guardians surrounded him, just as she’d foreseen. There were at least twenty, if not more. For the first time since the dragons awakened, Zarah considered taming. Maybe she could save the fool boy before the dragon came and stole her essence.
“Well,” the one with the highest rank said, “looks like we caught us a rabbit.”
A few of the others snickered.
“Where’s your friend?” he said without an ounce of humor.
“Go thump yourself,” Feffer spat.
“I will not tolerate such language. Save yourself the trouble. We know she came this way and likely is not far. You will answer my questions, or you will face the High Inquisitor. Understand?”
“Dragons take me if the inquisitor can’t go thump himself, too.”
“Cut him down.”
One of the guardians walked a dozen paces to the right. The rope was tied to a fallen tree. The man pulled his sword. It took three chops to sever the hemp. Feffer rolled into the fall, but he still let out a loud grunt of pain. The moment he stood, the guardian kicked Feffer’s feet out from beneath him.
“Humble him,” the guardian said to the others.
She saw the entire fight before it would happen. She wanted to shout to him not to resist, but she could not move. In the future where she intervened, they would slit his throat and pursue her. All she could do was watch reality catch up to the ghostly scene.
As a boot kicked at his midsection, Feffer rolled to his feet, dagger striking out. As the guardian clutched at the gash in his throat, Feffer drew the other man’s sword, slashing backward in the same motion.
The officer dodged. Feffer advanced two steps, before the guardians gathered their wits.
“Box formation,” the officer said, voice more irritated than angry.
Their response was instant. They surrounded Feffer. Blades flashed at his face and midsection. He dodged and parried, dancing around them as if he had trained with the sword all his life. He fought corner to corner, trying to line them up. Two more fell. Feffer tried to dart between them but was forced back. Three more replaced the pair he’d felled.
Feffer grunted in pain. A red line appeared on his sword arm.
“I need him alive.” The officer stepped farther from the fight, giving more orders for where and how the other men should strike.
Feffer’s face contorted in rage. His sword lunged into his attacker’s chest. A second gash tore at his back. Feffer rolled to the side, moving inside an opponent’s sword arm. His dagger punched into the man’s midsection. Once, twice. Feffer shouldered the man into two others. Just as he turned, the flat of a blade slammed into the back of his head.
He crumpled.
They fell on him like vultures. Swords and boots hammered at him. He rolled, covering his face with his arms. He would not attack again. He would lie there and take the beating.
Zarah felt her essence move. She forced herself to be still. There were only twelve left. How well could her visions help her to fight? No. She couldn’t take so many. Her visions confirmed it. If she leapt out, they would take her and Feffer both.
She sat, powerless to help.
The officer held up his hand, and the men stopped. Feffer did not unfurl until they stepped back. Once it was clear they were done, he spat blood to the side. His face was battered and bruised. By the anger simmering in his eyes, she just knew he would open his mouth and mutter something that would make the situation far worse, but he didn’t. He only stared at his attackers, making silent promises.
“Little noble,” the officer called out, “we have your companion. King Teblin will be most interested to learn what news you bring from the Isle of Justice. Give this to us, and you and your guard here are free to go. Otherwise, we cannot make assurances of his safe keeping. We wil
l await you at the southern gate of Alcoa City.”
He nodded toward Feffer, and the other men lifted him. Feffer grimaced in obvious pain as they pushed him forward, but he made no complaints. They’d likely broken his ribs with their kicks.
She waited to a count of five hundred before moving to follow. The trail of a dozen pairs of boots was easy enough to track. Once she reached the grand cobbled road, she stopped. At the top of the hill, she could see the group of them. Feffer’s red hair stuck out amongst the fair-haired Alcoans. She watched until they disappeared on the other side of the hill.
Zarah took a step to follow, but halted. She could not just go to them. Judging by Jorus Teblin’s treatment of Elwin, she could never trust the high inquisitor to give her or Feffer fair treatment. Worse, Teblin knew Zarah to be an elementalist.
How was she going to get Feffer out of this one without the Elements? After a few moments of quiet reflection, Zarah stood taller.
By Life, she had a plan.
Chapter 26
Perfectly Botched
High Inquisitor,
Your good name has been denigrated by the rogue, Jaxton Fliste and his accomplices. He is truly an agent of the Seeker and must be stopped before his conspiracy with the elementalists can destroy the guardian’s hard work. See the attached map and follow the directions if you wish to thwart his plans. May the Lifebringer bless you and keep you safe in these difficult times.
~A Humble Messenger, 2999 A.S.
~
Jax watched the rod fall toward Daren’s outstretched hand, feeling exposed on the balcony. He heard the loud creak of running boots on the staircase outside the lord’s quarters and knew he was out of time.
Below, Daren caught the rod and followed Jax’s gaze to the unlucky trespasser. The kid looked less startled by Jax and Daren than concerned by something beyond the hedges.
Instead of running or crying out in alarm, the younger man looked at them as if in recognition. Had he followed them from the alley?
Before Jax could puzzle out who the boy was, he heard a crowd, angry by their shouts. From his vantage on the balcony, he could see over the wall and through the open gate. A crowd of fifty or so men and women, armed with an assortment of sticks, clubs, and make-shift weapons marched with purpose. They were led by sword-wielding Guardians of thumping Life.