Bridge of Legends- The Complete Series

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  Marielle felt her spine freeze as she watched Allegra chew at her lip and stare at Marielle. She smelled of uncertainty and worry. Garlic and smoked paprika ringed her, swirling in ribbons of ochre and heather.

  “I don’t like trusting people.” And that made sense since she didn’t smell of truth or trust. “And I hate to trust you, but you owe me a debt and you must pay it, yes?”

  “Yes,” Marielle agreed, though the word was bitter on her tongue.

  “So, this is how you will pay. You will watch Etienne for me and report on what he is doing, who he is speaking to, and what plans he is making. Keep your eyes open and that nose of yours glued to the trail. I know he will keep you close – for your blood and skills if nothing else. And you must serve him. Because you owe him something – I don’t know what and I don’t need to know – but I know enough to know you can’t slip loose. So, if you’re to be by his side, best that you are there as my cat’s paw. Remember: watch, report, stay close.”

  Marielle’s mouth twisted at the demand. She was a servant of the law, not a spy. She was looking for redemption, not complications. She wanted to serve, not to scheme.

  “You owe me. And the law demands that you pay according to my terms,” Allegra said, lifting an eyebrow.

  And she was right. The law did demand that Marielle pay her debt. Any arbiter would rule that way.

  “You agree?” Allegra prodded.

  “I agree,” Marielle said, and she felt like a traitor for saying it.

  13: A Strange Pairing

  Tamerlan

  “You think the Eye is here?” Lord Mythos asked quietly as they stood side by side regarding the mausoleum of King Abelmeyer.

  Tamerlan gasped for breath. The journey – even just to the Alchemist District – had been hard on his shoulder and his vision was blacking in and out as he fought to catch his breath.

  “Drink,” Lord Mythos said, shoving a small flask into his hands.

  Thankfully, it was water. A small sip and he was already recovering a little, his breath coming a little easier, his vision clearing.

  “Why bury a king in the Alchemist’s District?”

  “It wasn’t the Alchemist District when he was buried,” Mythos said, circling the tall spire. Made of white stone and chiseled into a perfect point, it rose high in the middle of the Alchemist’s District of Xin. Amidst the colorful plumes of smoke pouring from the windows of a nearby Alchemy House – The Brass Cauldron – the pale spire looked strange. The simple stone box beneath it – as tall as Tamerlan and just as wide – was just as strange. There was no inscription. No plaque. No flowers. Nothing except chipped cobblestones and a smell that suggested it was being used as an alternative lavatory.

  Around them, the sounds and smells of the busy Alchemist District filled Tamerlan with a strange feeling of nostalgia. Strange because he’d hated his life as an alchemist. Strange, because he felt nothing but guilt at the memories of those lost. Stranger still because he almost felt an itch to grind up ingredients, chopping, weighing, drying, compounding ...

  And then open the Bridge and call us forth!

  He clamped down on his own thoughts. That pathway led to danger.

  “How did my sister escape Jingen?” he asked. “She was right in the heart of the city.”

  You’ll be sorry that you didn’t call ...

  “A lot of Landholds in Jingen were in the Seven Suns Palace,” Lord Mythos said as he walked around the mausoleum, feeling the stone with his hands. “They knew about the Lady Luck – a small ship tucked away in the Government District. It’s possible that is how she escaped. Possible that they rode the canal down to the river – just like you did. Just like most of the survivors from the heart of the city did. I don’t know for sure, but if I was a betting man, that’s what I’d bet on. Everyone else was crushed, trampled, drowned, or fell from a great height. Do you want me to go on? Do you want me to help you revel in what you did?”

  “If I hadn’t done it, you would have slit Marielle’s throat and drained her blood to appease your dragon,” he said bitterly. Because what he’d done hadn’t been all bad. He’d only ever wanted to save the innocent. His face felt hot at the thought because for all his good wishes, he’d only achieved evil. Except for her. Except for Marielle. “And why are you feeling the stones? If I was hiding something valuable in a tomb, I wouldn’t put it in a loose stone, I would put it in one of the drawers under the corpse. You know, the locked ones for valuables.”

  Lord Mythos’ eyebrows rose. “How do you know about what lies inside a mausoleum?”

  “I read,” Tamerlan said simply, showing him the book they’d stolen when they crept out of the Library. On the page was a diagram of the mausoleum. And the drawers were clearly marked. “There’s even a list of valuables. But there’s no mention of an amulet. Maybe it’s in the barrow.”

  “Hmmm,” Lord Mythos said, laying his hand over the lock on the mausoleum. He closed his eyes. “There is no barrow. That is just legend. And I did not wish to kill Marielle. But look at the alternative. Thousands dead and left to rot unburied. Children. Babies. People’s parents and lovers and children. Tell me honestly that knowing what you know now, you’d choose to save her again.” Tamerlan swallowed and with his eyes still closed, Lord Mythos snorted. “See? You wouldn’t have stopped me if you knew. I don’t know why people ignore the catechism. It’s so clear.”

  “Because it’s just old dusty words. Tradition. Legend. Things that couldn’t possibly be real. No one really thinks those things still have power.”

  “And yet they do. They’re all real. And they are all deadly.”

  Tamerlan shivered.

  “And if we don’t stop this dragon, he will kill again. Sure, the other cities completed their rituals. The other Lady Sacrifices died. But that won’t save them when Jingen returns.”

  “Returns? You’re planning to restore the city?”

  Lord Mythos laughed. “The cities, Tamerlan, were named for the dragons. The dragon is also named Jingen, just like the dragon sleeping under this city is named Xin – have you forgotten that? And I am about to borrow a tiny ficker of what belongs to Xin.”

  A click in the lock punctuated his words and the door to the mausoleum swung open.

  “You’d think that there would be guards,” Tamerlan said, looking around. People passed by on every side, going about their business. No one seemed to have noticed that the mausoleum door was open a crack.

  “You don’t need to guard things lying in plain sight. Almost everyone ignores their significance. Watch my back.” He ducked into the mausoleum so quickly that Tamerlan swallowed in surprise, his eyes opening wide as he closed the door carefully behind Lord Mythos. He’d rather not get in trouble with the City Watch in two cities.

  His mouth was dry as he kept watch. Even though he’d lost the cloak, his armor still stood out in this district. There weren’t many alchemists wandering around in full guard’s kit carrying bastard swords. But the people here seemed to almost instinctually look away from a man in armor. He probably would have, too. In Jingen, officers only meant trouble.

  He tried to concentrate on keeping watch, but it was hard to keep his eyes on the city when they kept flicking back to the book in his hands.

  The mausoleum is said to be a focal point for the energy of Xin, a place where magic can be harnessed by the right kind of mind. A place of focus. Perhaps it is the bones of King Abelmeyer that made it so. It is said that he laid a curse on them, that the day the dragon Xin rises again, King Abelmeyer will rise, too, and walk the world in his own bones. He will be a scourge to those who have forgotten the traditions and the recompense for their many sins.

  He glanced up to see someone standing in the street watching him. Ooops.

  He knocked on the door to the mausoleum. Hopefully, Lord Mythos would hear and come out. Right now, he was beginning to draw eyes. Someone else stopped, pointing at him. He flipped a page, trying to look casual.

  There was a pict
ure of King Abelmeyer being buried. Someone had taken time to sketch him in his final resting place, the amulet lying on his chest.

  So, it really was here at one time.

  He heard a scraping sound behind him, but he didn’t glance back. He was large and tall. Perhaps Lord Mythos could slip out of the mausoleum and no one would see him behind Tamerlan’s broad shoulders. The men on the street were growing into a knot of murmuring spectators. That wasn’t good.

  “Mythos?” He said quietly.

  “Call me Etienne.”

  “I think we should be going now, Etienne.” Standing still had made his chest seize up and now he could barely move his arm as he tried to adjust the book.

  “The tomb was empty.”

  “No amulet?” He asked as Lord Mythos slipped in front of him, also trying to appear casual.

  “Completely empty. There weren’t even bones.”

  Tamerlan felt the blood draining from his face. That couldn’t be good. Had King Abelmeyer’s bones already risen from the dead? And was he really thinking superstitious thoughts like that?

  “You need more water,” Etienne said, pulling his flask from his pocket again. It must have caught the light. That was the only explanation for why one of the men in the knot lunged forward.

  “They’ve found something!” he called.

  “Nothing at all!” Etienne said with raised hands, but it didn’t matter.

  Already, people were surging forward from every direction.

  “Think you can run?” Etienne asked, pulled the library book from Tamerlan’s hands.

  “No.”

  “Too bad. You’re going to have to. See if you can use some of that magic you stole in Jingen.”

  “I didn’t steal magic!” Tamerlan protested, but the Lord Mythos was already running, a dark streak in the colorful crowds and with a groan, Tamerlan followed, every jarring step its own small agony.

  He was going to die chasing after a man who hated him. He felt heat as fresh blood washed down from his shoulder, soaking his bandage and then his clothing, hot and wet and flaring with pain with every step he took. His head was light, his vision crackling around the edges.

  They reached a canal and he heard Etienne yelling to the gondolier – was there something familiar about that gondolier? – but he could hardly think, hardly even make his pounding heart slow down long enough to listen.

  He stumbled forward, his vision darkening. Rough hands tossed him into the boat and then he was huddled in the bottom of the gondola as it shot down the canal and Etienne continued to scold the gondolier.

  “I’m telling you, I’ll pay you, just get us out of here.” Frustration dripped from his tone. “Stay with me, Tamerlan!”

  There was a crash in the distance and Tamerlan heard Etienne calling something to his pursuers, but he didn’t make out the words. Pain pulled him into a hot embrace and blackness quickly followed, swallowing him up.

  14: Wind Rose

  Marielle

  It turned out that Allegra owned the inn next door. It also turned out that she grew impatient quickly and when Etienne took longer than expected, she opened a secret door from her warehouse to the inn and moved the Harbingers there.

  “But don’t expect me to do this for nothing,” she told them. “You owe me now.”

  “How much?” Liandari had asked with a curl of her lip. “What is your price, shopkeeper?”

  Allegra’s lips had tightened then but her expression turned to one of shock when Lindari flicked a finger against her thumb and one of her silent harpooners pulled three pearls the size of large peas from a small leather bag and handed them to Allegra.

  “For a week. Food included,” Liandari said. Allegra opened her mouth and the Ki’squall bared her teeth with a puff of garnet and pitch fury. “Try to negotiate and we will spear you where you stand.”

  Allegra’s mouth shut with a click and she escorted them through the hidden door and up to a suite of rooms in the top floor of the inn.

  “Send refreshment up. I grow weary of this city,” Liandari had said and though Allegra’s mouth tightened, and her scent was filled with sulfur and lime scented agitation, swirling around her in dusty clouds, still she left without a word.

  Satisfaction surrounded the Ki’squall in bright apricot hues. And no wonder. She’d been left to cool her heels in a storage warehouse instead of being shown here right away. Would Allegra have treated a Landhold that way? Why was she so eager to push these people around when Lord Mythos wanted them for allies?

  “Why did you come to the Dragonblood Plains?” Marielle asked as the Ki’squall settled in a padded ottoman, looking out over the city from a wide balcony where filmy curtains hid her from view while still allowing her to see everything beyond. “Was it only that prophecy?”

  “One of the dragons has risen into the sky,” she said, her voice tired. “And for that crime, Queen Mer will demand retribution.”

  Marielle shivered.

  “The Bridge of Legends has been opened once more,” the Windsniffer said, casting an unreadable glance toward Liandari and then pouring water from a jug at the central table.

  The harpooners had settled in without a word – two guarding the door, two taking to their rooms in the suite immediately. They worked in silence. Marielle was beginning to wonder if they could speak at all.

  “And this time,” he said, moving to the wide window to look out, too, “there are new Legends. New problems.”

  “What is the Bridge of Legends?” Marielle asked.

  “A path from one world to another. From the land where the heroes and villains wait to rise once more – to our world.”

  “Like the Legends from the stories? King Abelmeyer? Lady Chaos? Queen Mer?”

  They glanced at each other and it worried Marielle that they smelled of silver truth and certainty. It worried her more that this sounded so familiar. What had Tamerlan done, after all, but access these Legends – if Jhinn were to be believed?

  “Those are the new Legends. Before they rose to take that place, there were other legends. Darker Legends. The Legends that commanded the dragons ... and other creatures.”

  Marielle shivered. “Other creatures?”

  “There were many dark evils fighting man for this world in the days of the former Legends. And then men found a way to take the Legends and use them for their own purposes. It was a dark time. A time of chaos and deep evil.”

  “Why doesn’t anyone talk about that?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe it’s easier to forget. Maybe it’s simpler. But the People of Queen Mer’s Retribution do not forget. And we have returned to teach your people and remind them again of what they have forgotten.”

  “Then why are you the only ones who have come from the ships?” Marielle asked. She felt Liandari stiffen at her question, but Anglarok merely smiled.

  “You can’t go outside right now.” They’d heard a rumor as they were taken upstairs. Things were worse in the city. Mobs were forming. Scenters being snatched off the streets. What they had seen had only been the beginning. “So, it seems that now would be a good time to begin your lessons, hmmm? I’m surprised you are so untrained. Even in this backward land.”

  “Untrained?” Marielle almost laughed. “I spent my youth in the Scenter Academy, learning to hone my senses and being educated in the ways of the world, the laws of Jingen, the catechisms of the Dragonblood Plains and our traditions.”

  He waved a hand as if that mattered little, his scent – sea salt and strange spices she couldn’t identify mixed with the silver and mint of certainty – was steady and unruffled. “But no magic, it would seem.”

  “Magic?” Awe filled her voice and a tiny thrill of anticipation. She could almost taste the lilac and vanilla of magic on her tongue at the very thought of it.

  His eyes were bright and a smile began to form on his oak-hard face. “Sit with me.”

  They sat in a pair of upholstered chairs a little off to the side from the ottoman where Lia
ndari continued to observe the city below.

  Anglarok ran a hand through dark hair, “There are many kinds of magic in this world. Our gift – the gift of scent – is not magic at all, but rather just a heightening of the senses. It can be refined and encouraged. It can also be augmented and for that, we can use magic.”

  Marielle licked her lips and Anglarok tilted his head like he was smelling something coming from her.

  “But now I see that I have made you overeager,” he said, an agitated look flooding his face as he bit his lip, watching her. “It is a long time since I have been a Wind Guide. The balance of this is delicate.”

  He wiped his brow and then tore off his coat and the light shirt beneath it, revealing a chest and arms as tattooed as the harpooners’. Small trails went up the edges of his neck and as far as his hands, wrapping around his body in whorls just a little darker than his already dark skin.

  They really were maps! She could see coastlines picked out in careful detail and small islands, towns and cities, mountains, eddies, and whorls in the sea. Each named. There were coordinates beside some. And over his heart was a starburst inside a circle. The points of the starburst reached past the circle. Small, but significant and located on an isle in the sea.

  He tapped on his heart. “These tattoos show where I have been and where I am from. Starting here, at my home island. I add to these as I travel, recording the places I have been and the things I have seen on my skin – a memory stamped forever on my body. Magic is like that. It leaves a mark. Every bit of it you touch will change you. Which is why you need more caution. You need more care before you can touch it. Because the unwary can be quickly consumed, burned up by the power of the unknown and the fires they start can burn the world.”

  Marielle shivered. They’d woken the dragon by playing with magic. And the world was already beginning to burn.