by Adam Witcher
Isaac was about to respond when Aerin interrupted.
“Taxes?” She put her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know, I am the daughter of the mayor of Avalour. If anyone should pay taxes here, it’s you.”
“Aw, shit.” Isaac put a hand to his forehead.
The three orcs grinned and laughed. They charged their horses around, spinning circles around Isaac and Aerin.
“That was not your best idea,” Isaac said.
“I… they…” Aerin was dumbfounded. Clever though she usually was, she’d still led a sheltered existence.
“The mayor’s daughter, you say?” the huge orc yelled. “You hear that boys? We should pay her taxes.”
He yanked the reins and pulled his horse to a halt, then dismounted. He grinned and held up his axe, then moved toward Aerin.
“That poppa of yours would pay a fine price to get you home, wouldn’t he?”
He reached out to grab her by the neck, and Isaac prepared to strike.
“But maybe I’ll have some fun with ya first—”
Isaac cut him off by leaping onto his back. The orc screamed in a blend of terror and surprise. Two years of dodging throngs of people had made Isaac nimble and quick. Before the orc could protest further, Isaac buried the dagger into his neck. A jet of dark green blood burst out and sprayed the orc’s horse.
The blade glowed even more brightly than the first time. Before the other two orcs had a chance to retaliate, Isaac tossed it to Aerin. She inhaled, spoke an incantation, and smiled as energy coursed through her.
“You’re both dead!” One of the orcs screamed. They dismounted and drew their war axes. Each chose a target, but before they could follow through on their attacks, Aerin split herself in two again. The one targeting her froze, then rubbed his eyes. The other didn’t notice. He charged Isaac with bloodthirsty rage.
Isaac was used to that. He’d enraged his fair share of elves back home and knew how to use it to his advantage. The orc’s bulging arms told him that he was the stronger fighter, but anger would make him clumsy.
Isaac dove straight beneath his feet and tripped him. A loud clash of metal against soil rang out as the orc belly flopped on the ground. Quickly, Isaac spun around and jumped on him. A quiver with seven arrows was strapped to the orc’s back, so Isaac grabbed one and shoved it through his neck. The orc died with no more dignity than his counterpart.
Meanwhile, Aerin was already finishing up her own target. Saldana’s dagger was buried deep in his gut while he gave up his fight with the phantom elf. Her face was flushed, eyes contorted in horror. When his dark blood coated her hands, she jerked them back and frantically ran to the stream to rinse them.
The horses, all spooked by the melee, neighed and whinnied as they shifted around on their hooves. Aerin cried lightly, more from shock than despair.
Isaac knelt beside her and put a hand to her back.
“There wasn’t anything else we could do,” he said. “For what it’s worth, you kicked ass.
“I know.” She sniffed and turned to him. “I’ve just… never killed anyone before. Have you? Before today, I mean?”
“Once,” he admitted.
“Gods,” she said. “It feels… I don’t know. I know we had to do it, but it’s nasty business isn’t it? At the same time, though, it felt kind of…”
“Good?”
She turned to him, looked at him through reddened eyes.
“That’s the worst part, I think. It felt… empowering.”
“That dagger probably had something to do with it,” he said. “But even if it was an ordinary dagger, a justified murder can be satisfying.”
“Who did you kill before that man today?”
Isaac sighed. The story was bound to come up eventually. If the world was falling apart and being torn open, why not tell the truth?
The horses began to calm. Night set in fully, and now crickets chirped through the canyon, calling out to the bright stars above.
“Let’s get these bodies taken care of,” he said. “Then I’ll tell you.”
There wasn’t much they could do with the dead orcs other than drag them off. They pulled them to a cluster of rocks a few hundred feet away and hid them between the jagged stones. Afterward, they tied up the orcs’ horses alongside Moonlight and let them all drink from the stream. Isaac built a fire with what little materials were around, and though feeble, it cast a hypnotic glow on Aerin’s face. They stretched out beside it.
“You remember the reason I moved to Avalour, right?”
“Sure, your parents died, and you needed work, so you moved there and became a thief.”
“I never told you how they died.”
She considered this.
“No, I guess not.”
“They were bards. We lived in a small town a few hundred miles south of Avalour. Very small. It’s basically just a stopping point for people going to or from Avalour. Just travelers and those of us that worked the businesses there. My parents were the house bards for the town’s inn. They sang every night and had hundreds of stories to tell. I trained a little under them, but I was never all that musically inclined. Once I was old enough, though, I worked the bar.
“Anyway, one night this group of elves wandered in. Three of them, really arrogant motherfuckers. I can’t remember if they were coming to or from Avalour, but they were definitely part of high society. Well, I know that now, but at the time I really had no concept of how life in Avalour worked.”
Aerin shifted sheepishly but clung to every word.
“So my parents start doing one of their stories just like every night. This one was about a priest of Saldana who gets obsessed with his devotion and loses his mind. Ironic, right? He thinks Saldana is telling him to do all these horrible things like murder children and burn down buildings. Eventually he gets stopped and goes to trial, and the whole time he talks about how Saldana will exonerate him, how he’s doing all of this for her, blah blah blah. But Saldana never steps in. He ends up going to prison and still retains his faith. He prays to her every day from his cell. Well, one day she hears his prayers and shows up. He asks her why she let this happen to him. After all, in his eyes, he’s her greatest supporter. She’s confused. She has no idea who he is. Never heard a single one of his prayers. Who was telling him to do those horrible things? It isn’t clear, but it sure as hell wasn’t Saldana. So he despairs in the prison, abandoned by Saldana when she realizes what evil things he’s done.”
Aerin kept watching him, expecting him to continue.
“Is that it?”
“Yeah.” Isaac shrugged. “Not the nicest story, but that’s how it goes. A tale of blind devotion gone wrong.”
“So what happened with the elves who were listening?”
“They were furious. Blind devotion is considered a virtue, right? That’s the whole point of the story. To challenge that. Admittedly, my parents probably weren’t all that tactful. But they didn’t deserve what happened to them.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask.”
He took a deep breath. “One of the elves pulled a sword on them, and the other two took them out back and tied them to a tree. All I could do was watch from inside. I was only sixteen! Well, I use that as an excuse now, but maybe I could have done something.
“Anyway, the elves yelled at them to praise Saldana, to denounce their story and promise to never tell it again. But my parents refused. Maybe if they’d known what was going to happen, they’d have given in. They were stubborn, though, and they believed in the power of that story. I don’t think they believe the elves would actually do anything. But the elves burned them. And I watched through the window while they died.”
“Gods, Isaac, I’m so sorry.” She put a hand on his thigh.
“I’m okay now. It’s been eight years. But I still wonder what could have happened if I’d tried to do something.”
“Wait, but you did do something. You said you killed someone.”
Isaac absentmindedl
y tossed a twig into the fire.
“Yeah,” he said. “I did. That night, I waited until they were sleeping. All in separate rooms, of course. I took a key from the back, the one to one’s room. The one who actually burned them. The one who, at the time, I assumed was the leader. I still don’t know if he was. But I took a dagger, snuck into his room, and stabbed him in the chest while he slept.”
Isaac stared at the stars as he told the story. He couldn’t see Aerin across the fire, but he couldn’t hear her move or speak.
“Just like that?” She finally asked. “No hesitation?”
“Only a little. But I was seeing red. Blinded by rage. The bastard had just killed my parents.”
“So how did it feel?” She said hesitantly, as though afraid to ask.
“It felt… just.” He sat up and looked at her. The flames distorted her face. “I don’t regret it.”
“And now you have Saldana’s dagger,” she said.
Isaac picked up the dagger, which glowed brightly in the darkness.
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
“So what happened after that? Did the other elves catch you?”
“Nope, I ran. Spent the next few years roaming from city to city, begging for scraps. Learning to steal. No place ever felt like home. Then two years ago, I wound up in Avalour. I guess you know the rest.”
“I guess I’m stating the obvious here, but Avalour is full of elves, and Saldana is a pretty big deal. At least, she used to be. Why do you feel at home there?”
“It isn’t exactly right to say I feel at home in Avalour,” he said. “But I do feel a sense of purpose. At least I did, even if it wasn’t the most noble purpose. Now that all this business is happening, it seems petty. I’ve spent all this time hating Saldana, and now I owe her my life. Looking back, it was never her fault. She’s a goddess, but that doesn’t mean she controls every aspect of her followers' lives. It was those damned elves that killed my parents. Not her. But I guess I can’t be blamed for making the association.”
“She’s meant to be the cleansing light,” Aerin said. “To drive out evil and darkness. But not every follower can agree on what evil and darkness entail. Besides, you never know if those elves were actually her followers or if they were like my father. Pretenders using her name to make themselves appear righteous.”
“Oh, I know,” he said, laying back down. “It isn’t like I hate all elves, after all. Otherwise that would make what you and I have a little awkward, wouldn’t it?”
She laughed. Isaac wondered what exactly it was that they had. They cared for each other, but in some ways, it felt they were just getting to know each other for the first time. He pondered this as she succumbed to the long day and drifted off to sleep across the fire.
8
Isaac couldn’t sleep. Between the hard ground, the glowing blue blade, and the gorgeous night sky, he jolted awake each time he began to drift off. Beside him, Aerin dozed peacefully.
He idly twirled the dagger in his hand for a while. The hypnotic blue was so rich that it reminded him of the White Sea. Why did they call it the White Sea? It was much bluer than white.
He sighed and rolled over, wishing he could stop thinking. As he did so, the hook at the handle’s base caught on something in the air. After a moment, it pulled free.
Intrigued, he sat up and tried to find the spot again.
After a few seconds, he found it. The hook caught firmly on something invisible. Not able to resist his curiosity, he started pulling downward. Along the path, a blue light streaked behind the dagger, a much more inviting hue than the dark purple that had led him to that hellscape. This blue was the same shade as the blade itself.
The glow began to fade, so he made a much smaller oval than the portals he’d seen before. Whatever this led to, he was more than happy to stay in his own dimension anyway.
Eventually, he completed the oval—just a bit wider than his head—and the portal opened.
He was greeted by the face of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Skin fair and lightly freckled, eyes greener than a fresh spring meadow, the woman peered at him curiously, as if she wasn’t expecting to be disturbed. Blonde curls cascaded from her head, partially done up in a silver circlet with a moonstone at the center. Tips of ears stuck out from her hair. Wherever she was, it was daytime. A blue sky stretched out behind her.
She was nude, and her voluptuous curves twisted sensuously as she cocked her head to look at him more closely. Her breasts were round and full, small nipples just visible against her pale skin.
“Denston?” she said. “I haven’t heard from you in days, where have you been?”
Isaac, realizing for the first time that she was looking at him, cleared his throat.
“Wait,” the woman said. “You aren’t Denston. What’s happened to him? Who are you?”
“I, uh… No, I’m not Denston. I’m Isaac. If Denston is who I think he is, he’s dead.”
“Dead? Oh, gods. What happened?”
Isaac nervously gave her the quick version. Somehow it didn’t disturb Aerin, who kept sleeping.
“Poor Denston,” she said, shaking her head. “It is such a pity. But, admittedly, he wasn’t my finest devotary. I take it you know who I am?”
“Saldana.” Despite everything, the name still felt bitter on his tongue.
She nodded.
“This is bad, Isaac. Very bad, indeed.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“I’m afraid you don’t, Isaac. If Scorpius is enlisting his beasts to ensnare beings from your dimension, I fear what he has planned.”
“This Scorpius, who is he? A god?”
“Not exactly,” Saldana replied. “He is a mortal, just like you. But to someone from your dimension, I suppose he might as well be.”
“Ouch, come on, we’re not that dumb here.”
“What I mean is that he is capable of interdimensional travel, the only mortal who has ever mastered the art. Or is at least in the process of mastering it.”
“What about me?” Isaac held up the dagger. “I made it back to my dimension with this. See? We are smart.”
Saldana laughed.
“I enchanted that dagger with my own magic,” she said. “You didn’t cross the threshold. I crossed it for you.”
“What about that elf, Denston?”
“Denston was my devotary. I crafted the blade for him so that he may serve me. Alas, if I were to enter your dimension, I would lose my abilities there. So I gifted him so that he may act in my honor.”
“Acted in your honor.”
“Right.” she sighed. “Poor Denston. I would say that he failed in his task, and yet here you are.”
Isaac furrowed his brow.
“What does that mean?”
“I had a premonition that a group of elves would perform a human sacrifice in your city,” she said. “I sent Denston to put a stop to it. You were meant to be that sacrifice. The one that would open the gates to Scorpius’s realm.”
“But they did open. And I didn’t get sacrificed.”
“This is what troubles me. I don’t understand it. Perhaps Scorpius has become more powerful than I realized. Perhaps he is powerful beyond the need for support from other mortals. I fear that he has found another method. Until a few weeks ago, I was able to create windows into his domain, to watch as he plotted his horrible plan. Now, I cannot see anything. He plans to steal your realm.”
“What does that mean?”
“If Scorpius’s interdimensional abilities are becoming stronger—and it seems certain that they are—he may try to break down the barriers between your realms. If he succeeds, your home will become his domain. And if he can retain the power he draws from his own realm, he will be unstoppable. The elves in your realm, they know not what they are doing. Scorpius is a great deceiver. He has likely promised them great power in exchange for their assistance. But he will certainly not deliver. He seeks only to appeal himself to the elders of his
own realm.”
Elders, Isaac thought, remembering the giant lumbering forms in that demonic hellscape.
“But he attacked them! A bunch of his own followers got pulled through the portals. They must know he isn’t on their side now.”
“It is possible that he has evolved beyond the need for their sacrifices. Or perhaps he sought to sacrifice them directly. I do not know. The events you’ve described make no sense to me. He should not have been able to open that many portals without so much as a single sacrifice. And since he had the ability, why would he need so many more souls from your realm? If what you say is true, he may have taken hundreds of elves.”
Isaac rubbed his temple. If a goddess couldn’t understand what was happening, what hope did he have?
“So what can we do?” Isaac asked.
“It saddens me that I must place this burden upon you, but since Denston is dead, and you now wield my dagger, I ask that you become my new devotary. That you spread my cleansing light through your realm and find out what Scorpius plans to do. And stop him.”
Isaac felt nauseous. None of this should have surprised him, but to hear it so plainly filled him with dread.
“But I’m nobody,” he said. “Just a thief. You want me to save this entire realm? What if I can’t?”
Saldana gazed down, eyes watering.
“I don’t know what will happen if you can’t. And I hope not to find out.”
Isaac said nothing, tried to process what he was being told.
“I can’t exactly march right up to Scorpius and stab him,” he said. “I don’t even know how to get to his realm again.”
“That dagger will provide for you. Not only can it open portals between dimensions, but it can vanquish souls from your realm. Were Scorpius or one of his minions to enter your realm and one were to kill them with an ordinary blade, they would only be sent back to their own dimension, and they could easily come back through.”
“So this is the only weapon that can stop him?”
“The only one I know of.”
Her image faded a little.