by David Ekrut
The door to their rooms cracked in its hinges.
Chapter 29
Friends in Dark Places
Dearest Anetia,
My sanity is quite sound. Abaddon was extremely civil, even cordial. Surprisingly so. But he was, after all, a nobleman once. Besides, I have what he wants. He cannot create a construct without compliance from a person in the physical realm. It was a calculated risk and worthwhile. His guidance has allowed me to move forward. You are correct, the war began with him, but if you will remember your history, it was the magi who meddled. We should have never answered the Sacred Order’s call. Also, it is most interesting to speak with a being who was actually there in the beginning.
In regards to the dragons, thank you for your perspective. This is why I enjoy your involvement in my studies. My biases are impossible to see without an external factor. You are correct. I cannot base the reaction of all dragons to my dealings with a single one. Also, the dracons are likely to still be a threat to us all. There are several of the dracons here, and I will make a request to speak with them and more of the dragons we are hosting as time permits.
~R., 2996
~
Feffer woke. His head ached. Several cuts stung his body. He could feel hard, damp cold beneath him. He blinked several times, but his eyes never adjusted to the darkness. It smelled like urine and feces. Ignoring the ache in his ribs and back, he forced himself to a sitting position.
“What’s your name?”
Despite being only a whisper, Feffer flinched at the sound. He swallowed several times before answering.
“Feffer. You?”
“Petrus,” he said. “You don’t sound like you’re from Alcoa.”
“I’m not,” Feffer admitted. “I’m from the Island Nations.”
“Pity,” he said. “Such a long journey just to end like this.”
“What do you mean?” Feffer asked.
“We are going to die. They’ll torture us tomorrow in the square as an example to others.”
“There hasn’t been a trial.”
“They do not need one. Not anymore. They are the law now, but their numbers are dwindling. They’ll use our deaths as a means to recruit more people to their cause. People are starving and becoming desperate, and the guardians have food. After every execution, there is an influx of people flocking to serve.”
Feffer made a sound of disgust. “Every Lifeday, my da dragged me to the temple to listen to the guardians’ sermons about compassion and cherishing life, and now they are murdering people for being hungry.”
There was a brief silence. “They believe they are righteous.”
Feffer snorted. “Clearly, they don’t know the meaning of the word.”
“You must have done something to end up in here.”
“Nothing. We were attacked getting off our ship. I’m guilty of defending myself.”
“We?” Petrus asked.
“Aye. I came here with others.”
“Are they still out there?”
“I don’t know,” Feffer lied on reflex.
“I killed one of them,” Petrus said with a hint of pride. “Came up behind him and slit his throat. I took his cloak and pretended to be a guardian to get access to their food stores. That’s when they caught me.”
“How?” Feffer asked.
“I gave their regular salute. The one they give to get into and out of cities, but they have a different greeting for supply officers.”
“Too bad,” Feffer said.
“I’m sorry about your friends. Hopefully, some of them are still out there.”
“Hopefully.”
After another long silence, Petrus asked, “Do you think they’ll come for you?”
“Not likely,” Feffer lied again. Though, he did hope Zarah had the good sense to leave him here. Not that he wanted to die, but he needed her to live. She had visions and powers. She had a real chance to get to the heartblades and learn how to use one.
“If they do,” Petrus pressed, “will you take me with you?”
“Sure. If she comes for me, I’ll do what I can to get you out of here, too.”
“She?”
“Enough questions,” he said, feeling suddenly exhausted. Feffer backed up until he felt a wall. “I’m going to rest.”
“Are you all right?”
“Mostly bruised, I think. My ribs might be cracked. Hurts to breathe. I just need to close my eyes for a minute.”
~
Breathing was difficult in the cramped wagon, but Zarah dared not move for fear of jostling the tarp. After the farmer’s betrayal, trusting Kariland felt foolish, but she had few other options. In addition to rescuing Feffer, she needed to reach King Alcoa. Both were inside the city, and she could not get inside alone.
“Hold,” a voice called.
Zarah forced herself to take slow, shallow breaths as the wagon rolled to a stop. This was Kariland’s chance. If he wanted to be rid of her, all he would need to do is rip aside the tarp.
“What do you have for us today, farmer?”
“Wheat and barley.”
“Hurry it up. The baker’s going to need that wheat straight away.”
The wagon lurched forward once more. After a few minutes, she allowed herself to breathe normally once more. There were several turns before Kariland stopped again. The tarp flew away, revealing a clear sky above her. To either side were tall buildings topped with red tiles.
“Get out,” he said. “We must be swift.”
She hopped out of the wagon. Kariland walked to the building on her right and knocked on a solid door.
A muffled voice called. “Name?”
“The King is a mighty ruler. May his reign be long and true.”
Several locks and bolts slid across wood, and the door opened. A burly woman ushered them into an antechamber and slammed the door behind them. After locking the door, she turned on Kariland.
“What is this?”
“This is Caribell,” he told her, gesturing to Zarah. “She’s another sword for the king.”
The fabrication was as much for the woman’s benefit as Zarah’s. The guardians catching wind of her identity would only bring trouble. She just needed a place to hide for the night.
While looking Zarah up and down, the large woman adjusted the bun atop her head and straightened her apron. The woman’s eyes appraised the swords, one at Zarah’s hip and the other strapped to her back by leather cords.
“Can you use those, girl?”
“She can,” Kariland said. “I assure you.”
“There are no free meals here,” the woman said. “Everyone must earn her keep. If you found those swords and mean to play make-believe soldier, I’ll know it soon enough and throw you out on your ear. Understood?”
“I understand,” Zarah said. “I have been trained in the five forms of sword and hand-to-hand combat. I have much to learn, but I am competent in battle.”
The woman frowned. “Where are you from? Don’t lie. I’ll know.”
“The Island Nations. Justice.”
“I thought as much. Why are you for the king and not the guardians or that ruffian upstart?”
“King Alcoa is loyal to my nation. Aiding him however I can is what my father would want.”
“Where is your father?”
“Home.”
“All right, Kariland. I’ll take the girl. What do you want for her?”
Zarah blinked. “I am not property.”
“Forgive Jera,” Kariland said. “She gives me trade in exchange for food and competent refugees. You are, of course, free to leave any time.”
Jera grunted. “Of course you can, but you are no fool, Caribell. And only a fool would think of finding better shelter and safety than we have here.”
“This
was an inn,” Zarah said.
“Aye. Belongs to me and my husband, Baynor. And you’ll not find a better place in all of Alcoa Proper.”
“I do not doubt it,” Zarah said. “Thank you for giving me a place amongst you.”
“I can tell by your haughty stare and raised chin, you are accustomed to fineries, but you’ll be sharing with two other girls.”
“I understand, and I am grateful. I only need a place to stay for a night, maybe two. I’ll earn my keep while I am here.”
Jera snorted. “That’s what they all say. Once upon a time, I’d indulge a homesick traveler, but I weary of the coddling. We both know you are here to stay. The sooner you acknowledge that, the better it’ll be for all of us.”
Zarah looked at her feet, allowing the woman to deceive herself into believing her cowed.
“Now,” Jera said, turning on Kariland. “You want my mead, I reckon?”
“Aye.”
“I can only give a quarter barrel,” she said, pulling a small keg from a storage closet. “And unless you can give me more honey, you’ll not have more after this.”
Kariland took the barrel with a frown. “I’ll have honey next tenday. I promise.”
“Right then,” Jera said. “Off with you. I need to find a place for Caribell and get her rotating in with the other runners.”
Kariland nodded. “Aye. I need to get this wheat to the guardians before they realize what I’m about. Can I speak to Caribell for a moment?”
Jera’s frown deepened. “I’ll be just over here.”
She walked down a short corridor to what looked like a kitchen.
Once she was beyond earshot, Kariland leaned forward and whispered, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Highness?”
“I tried to keep up with the turns while beneath the tarp, but I am not certain. How do I get back to the southern gate?”
He blinked. “You are planning to go for him now?”
“Yes. Well, not exactly now. I need to scout out the place first.”
“There’s never short of fifty men moving about the guardhouse. The prison is beneath the barracks. You’ll never get to him alone.”
“No. I won’t be able to get him from the cells. I will need to make my move when they take him to the block.”
“As I said, they won’t do that until the morning, but I wish you would reconsider,” Kariland said. “Perhaps you should seek out the king. He might have men to lend aid.”
“I have thought of that,” Zarah said. “But if Alcoa refuses to aid me, he might not allow me to leave his custody. If he has spoken with my father, via a rod of sending, I am certain he will detain me until he can find a way to cart me back to Justice. And even with my crest, it might take time for me to get to the king. I cannot risk Feffer’s life.”
She should risk his life. How many had already died for this? He was just another soldier after all, but she could not leave him to be tortured to death. And he was also a subject of her crown. A stubborn, annoying, uncouth subject, but a subject nonetheless. She could not let such a fate befall one of her own. Not if she could help it.
“Ah,” Kariland said. “I see.”
“What is that look?” she demanded.
“You are besotted with that boy.”
She frowned. “That is preposterous. Half the time, I want to kill him myself. The other half, I tolerate him, because he is my guard.”
Kariland held his hands up in surrender. “My apologies. Clearly, I was mistaken.” She ignored his smirk.
“Hurry it up,” Jera called. “I’ve got work to be about.”
“Yes, right,” Zarah said. “There is the matter of your crime against me.”
Kariland’s smile faded, and he looked away.
“You were only trying to do what is best for your family, and I cannot fault you for that. You are forgiven. I will not tell King Alcoa of your lapse in judgement. In the future, do not be eager to aid the guardians in any way. Soon, Arinth will be at rights again. Have faith and remain true to your king.”
Tears filled the farmer’s eyes. “Thank you, Highness. I will. I swear by my blood, I will.”
“Now off with you. Be well, Kariland.”
As the farmer unlatched the locks and slid open the bolts, Jera stormed back down the hall, all but slamming the door behind him.
“Rule number one,” she said, fastening the latches and locks. “Never leave this door unlocked. We change our passphrase every tenday. No one enters without it. Anyone gives an old phrase, it doesn’t come open. Understood?”
“Aye,” she said.
“Good. Rule number two. Despite what Baynor says, I dispense the food. Kitchen belongs to me. He was only ever half-a-cook at best, and I know how to stretch a stew better than him. If you spot him lurking about the kitchen, find me straight away.”
“Got it.”
“This way then. I’ll need to introduce you to your flatmates.”
Zarah followed, trying to fight down the dread at meeting yet more people. The fewer who saw her, the better. Jera took her through the kitchen into a common room. It was utterly spotless, but several children still bustled about, cleaning and polishing.
“Everyone works,” Jera explained. She turned to the stairwell and took the steps two at a time. “I’ll be putting you into the delivery rotation in the morning. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all.” She could use the opportunity to slip away. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
“Aye. Rule three. Don’t be a hero. While making runs, you’ll see people under attack. Some of these are just ploys to draw you away from supplies. Some are real, but it’s difficult to know the difference. Your job is to make deliveries.”
“Who will I make runs to?”
“We trade with other shops, taverns, and inns around town. Gold is pretty useless right now, but we’ll take it if that’s all they can offer. We have a nice garden in the back and decent stores in the cellar, but not everyone is as fortunate. But don’t trouble yourself about that. The trades’ll be worked out in advance. You’ll know just what you’re going for. Aside from that, you’ll learn on the go. How’s your head for directions?”
“I retain memories fairly well.”
“Fantastic,” she said, opening a door on the twelfth floor.
The small room was empty. Two sets of bunks were perfectly made. The wash basin was clean and the mirror above it polished. Nothing was out of place. Surveying the room, Jera nodded her approval.
“Guess the girls are about chores,” Jera said. “You aren’t afraid of heights are you?”
“Not at all.”
“Yours will be the top one on that side. You can place your pack in that chest. Try not to disturb Virandia’s belongings too much as you make yourself at home.”
“Thank you.”
“Just work hard and do your part, that’ll be thanks enough. Your first run will be at first light. On your own. It’s a small delivery to a bakery we make regular trade with. I’ll be downstairs. After you settle in, come see me, and we can discuss the details.”
Zarah nodded, determined to leave before first light.
Once the door closed, Zarah leaned against the solid wood and let herself breathe for a few seconds. It felt wrong to deceive Jera. Beneath her rough exterior, the woman had a big heart. And she was tenacious. The Awakening had not stopped her from thriving and helping several others along the way, but she could not reveal her true identity. Her being here was danger enough.
Zarah moved to the window, which overlooked the front of the inn. She opened the shutters, letting in the fall breeze. Below, the street wound its way toward the castle. Several spires had collapsed, and entire wings were missing. Still, the colossal palace towered over the city. The other buildings of Alcoa were pale imitations.
Fa
r to the north, she could see smoke. Distant sounds of battle could just be heard above the whistling of the wind across red tiles. She felt a pang of deep sadness.
This was the greatest city in Arinth. And it had fallen to chaos.
But she would go into this bedlam and save Feffer. Then she would take that lout with her to King Alcoa and find what she needed. And she would end this.
Zarah let herself see the apparitions filling the streets. Of all the possibilities, she focused on the future she wanted. Then she turned from the window and left the room, making plans to restore order to Arinth.
Chapter 30
The High Inquisitor’s Shoes
Partial Spending, Day 399 of experimentation.
Though he watches my incantations with a keen interest and prods me for further information, Abaddon has proved to be an agreeable subject of study. However, I believe he is now watching me from his perch in the shadow realm. This means, I am unable to spend any Berats for testing purposes until concluding my dealings with the Seeker. I have told him nothing of the partial spendings of elementalists’ essences, for I fear this would cause him to withdraw his aid. Preliminary tests have confirmed my hypothesis. The dragons cannot rise without him, and if he falls, they will as well.
~Ricaria Beratum, 2996 A.S.
~
Another knock slammed into the thick wood. “Open up.”
“What now?” Daren asked. “We cannot pretend to be the high inquisitor if they were sent by the high inquisitor.”
Jax ignored the question. He crept to the door, listening to the shuffling feet outside in an attempt to ascertain the number of guards. There was too much movement to determine. A lot then.
How had the guardians found them so swiftly?
“Are you certain this room has been hired?” the voice asked more quietly.
“Aye,” the innkeeper said. “To a large Kalicodian. You are looking for a savage, right? And other patrons heard someone arguing. Has to be them.”
“Open it up,” the voice commanded.
As a key clattered into the hole on the other side, Jax checked the beam running across the door. The iron felt fairly secure. But when the door opened an inch and clanged into the wood, the bolts securing the brackets rattled.