Bridge of Legends- The Complete Series

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  “If that’s not a ruby medallion, then I’m an octopus,” Liandari said. She slid a knife from its sheath and began to sharpen it slowly.

  “We want her back,” Anglarok said slowly.

  He eased up on the chain and Tamerlan sucked in a gasping breath.

  “I want her out of the clock as badly as you do.” His words were rasping through his ragged throat.

  It seemed the safest thing to say. This man looked violent and the gleam in his eye spelled trouble in capital letters.

  Make him believe it!

  “I’d do anything to get her out. But to do that, I have to find the Grandfather – the man who put her in the clock. And I need to trap him.”

  The blow came out of nowhere. Tamerlan’s face blossomed with pain and the sight in his single eye went dark for a moment before he was spitting blood and gasping for breath.

  These were Marielle’s friends? These thugs?

  “Don’t lie to us,” Liandari said from behind Anglarok. She stood at the fire, still sharpening her knife and swirling her fingers through his things. A few loose coins. A belt knife. A tangle of string. Abelmeyer’s Eye. The rolls of Spices. Tamerlan flinched at the sight of those in her possession. What would she do with those? Did she know what they were?

  “I’m not lying,” Tamerlan said through a fat lip.

  The blow came so fast that he couldn’t flinch before it struck him, spinning his head with the force of it.

  “Anglarok could hit you all day. But what would be the point of that? Better to be honest,” Liandari said. He was starting to worry about that knife. What was she sharpening it for? “You put the girl in the clock. We can’t get her out. You took her conch shell. And yet, you have not used it. But Anglarok smells the same scent on you that we smelled when the Lord Mythos vanished after promising to help us. The same smell that led us to the clock and Marielle. What is that smell, boy?”

  Tamerlan kept his mouth shut now. He was learning his lesson.

  Liandari picked up the contents of his pockets, examining them in her hands and he held his breath as she looked at the spices held in her hands.

  In his mind, the Legends held their breath, too, because what he feared was the same thing that they wanted. They wanted her to burn the spices – whether for herself or for him. They wanted her to release them. He could almost feel them jockeying for position on the edge of the Bridge.

  “I will give you a few minutes to think about how easy it will be for us to kill you and how wise it would be for you to tell us everything. In the meantime, Anglarok and I will have a quiet talk with the keeper of this fine inn. Rest assured that when we are done, any sound you make in the questioning will not concern him.”

  She threw his sword and the yellow conch shell on the table but the other things she kept in her hand as Anglarok opened the door to the room. Tamerlan heard the hinges squeaking behind him.

  “Remember, boy,” Liandari said. “Cities aren’t the only thing that can be burned to the ground.”

  She threw his other things into the fire, as if for emphasis, or maybe to remind him that she could burn him just as easily – and then the two of them stalked out of the room and shut the door.

  Tamerlan waited for them to leave before sucking in as deep of a breath as he could.

  Please let there be smoke! Please!

  There! Just a whiff. Would it be enough?

  He coughed. Breathed in more. Coughed again.

  He was going to hyperventilate like this!

  And then he wasn’t coughing at all.

  Ram the Hunter was coughing.

  Yes! If anyone could get free, it was Ram!

  Dragon. I sense it beneath us.

  And then Ram the Hunter was bursting out of the bonds. How had he done that when he only had Tamerlan’s muscles to use? And Ram the Hunter was scooping up Tamerlan’s sword and strapping it on.

  We hunt!

  Ram reached to where Abelemeyer’s Eye had landed – just the ruby part in the fire – and snatched it out, gripping it by the cooler chain.

  Ram grabbed the chair he’d been tied to only moments before and ran to the window, shattering the panes with the chair legs and sweeping them clear before leaping up to the ledge.

  The door to the room swung open and Anglarok charged in.

  “What -?” shock was on his face, but it only took him a moment to snatch up his harpoon from beside the door.

  “Next time,” Ram growled. “Ask better questions.”

  And then he leapt out the window, grabbing a sign on the way down and swinging dramatically on it before landing squarely on the cobbles. Liandari rushed out the inn door, sword in hand. Anglarok was already up on the window ledge. How were they moving so fast? How had Liandari even known to run out the door? They were smarter than Tamerlan was. Quicker than he was.

  Not quicker than Ram.

  The sign over the door read, The Priest’s Revenge. They were on the edge of the Temple District where trade and mercantile leaked into the edges of religion. That was a relief. He wouldn’t have to go far for aid.

  Fortunately, Ram was not hesitant. He was moving before Tamerlan had even assessed the situation, dashing down the cobbled street and between clumps of strangers working in the dusk of the first night of Autumngale – the night known as “Drawing Bounds.” Tonight, groups of friends, family and neighbors would draw thick boundaries in chalk – or even oil pastels to defy the rain – all through the cities of the Dragonblood Plains. The boundaries marked the small places claimed by these groups of allies.

  In the past, we didn’t do it with chalk. We did it with blood.

  Yuck. Of course, it would be something violent and unnecessary.

  Who are you to say it wasn’t necessary?

  They ran through the rain, picking up speed as they dashed down to the canal. Ram tossed the Eye’s chain over his head as he ran. Tamerlan could just imagine Ram out with a bucket of blood and paintbrush making marks on the streets.

  That’s too literal. What I mean is, we killed for what is ours. And I sense a dragon sleeping beneath our feet. We should slay this beast.

  Did you ever slay dragons in your past life, Ram? Ram? Ram?

  The Legend was gone.

  Dragon’s blood in a cup!

  Feet pounded behind him and Tamerlan clenched his teeth. Just when he needed him the Legend was gone! It was up to Tamerlan to get free on his own, now. But what Ram could do with Tamerlan’s body, Tamerlan could do ... right?

  He dashed toward the bridge, dodging knots of people with open mouths and wide eyes. They could gape all they wanted. He wouldn’t get this chance twice.

  Three more strides took him to the Echo Bridge and then he was jumping up onto the slick rock-work rails and leaping into the canal below.

  Hopefully, Jhinn was where he’d left him.

  Hopefully, he was faster and smarter than the Harbingers were.

  Hopefully, he knew a good way to dry out on a rainy night.

  He was almost laughing as he dropped through the air.

  10: Visions of a Future Past

  Marielle

  She was getting closer to where she wanted to be. Floating. Drifting from moment to moment, life to life. One moment she was watching as a child helped her father stack rocks to build their neighborhood wall – drawing bounds to keep enemies out. They were full of hope and delight – bronze and apple red swirling around them in a way that made her want to sing with shared delight. A moment later she was watching that same woman – old now and bent – fighting on her small neighborhood wall. She cut back attackers with a knife the length of her forearm. Maybe she won. Maybe she died there defending her home. Marielle didn’t see, though a part of her knew. A part of her knew everything.

  And yet, when you know everything, but you’re still human, it’s impossible to know it all at once. Impossible, that is, if you want to keep your humanity. Impossible, if you want to keep your sanity.

  So, Marielle let herse
lf drift. She let herself cry tears of devastation as she watched one life after another burst forth, live, and then crumple and fade and die. Knowing everything was more painful than she’d ever imagined. And more beautiful.

  And then her nose caught a familiar smell and just like that, she didn’t want to know anything at all except for this. It was just like the first time she’d scented it – when she’d known somehow that life would never be the same again.

  She didn’t know how she followed it, but she did, squeezing between lives and memories, pushing past epic stands and bold speeches, ducking under the tables where back-door dealings were made. The golden scent twisted in the air around her, drawing her closer, closer, closer.

  And then she was standing in a field and she was watching a boy with huge bright eyes staring at the sky. He was drawing birds in flight with a charcoal on a small scrap of paper and his faraway smile spoke of an imagination alive with the delight of living. Behind him, a little girl with long hair and chubby hands, stalked up through the grass, trying to look up at what he was seeing.

  “They’re only starlings,” she said.

  But his smile grew.

  And gold surrounded him.

  And then the scene slipped away.

  Marielle clawed desperately for it, trying to go back, trying to find it again.

  She found him briefly – a little younger this time – running as fast as he could, trying to catch a rainbow in a field that seemed just out of reach, his little face screwed up with concentration and absolute infatuation rolling off him in pink waves. And then he was gone again, as insubstantial as the rainbow had been.

  She would find him again. The golden scent still drew her. It still curled through the air before her. He was out there somewhere. And she would find him.

  Tamerlan.

  11: Hunting Time

  Tamerlan

  It had all been a terrible disaster. Tamerlan’s hands shook as they slid up the canal in the Government District through the damp darkness. Though for once they weren’t shaking from wanting to smoke – just from nerves and excitement. The moon hung in the sky like a single eye – mocking Tamerlan for losing his.

  “I don’t know why you feel bad about smoking, boy,” Jhinn scolded quietly from his seat in the stern of the gondola. “It gives you the power to change destinies. Sometimes for the bad, sure, but lots of times for the good.”

  He seemed unruffled by Tamerlan’s sudden drop into the gondola. He hadn’t even batted an eye when Tamerlan had demanded that they flee the area.

  Tamerlan snorted. “Name one time it was for the good.”

  Jhinn’s long dry pause was only interrupted by his drier tone. “That time you brought a dragon down from the sky.”

  “How about the time I woke one up?” He couldn’t help the bitterness of his tone. “Or the time I killed a lot of priests for no reason.”

  “You said they were harboring the Grandfather.”

  “Yes.”

  “You know they worship him, right? They worship a horrific Legend that will feast on their bones someday.” Jhinn’s grin made it hard to tell whether he felt that was awful or funny.

  “Yes.” Tamerlan was answering, but his eyes scanned the silhouettes of the buildings they passed. Was anyone watching them?

  “And when you were done killing people who are already dead, what happened?” Jhinn demanded.

  Tamerlan shivered. At least it was quiet and sleepy here. No one would hear Jhinn naming his crimes so loudly.

  “I don’t know why you insist on thinking that anything on the land is dead, Jhinn.” Better to change the subject. “You know that I leave and come back to you and when I’m on your gondola I’m alive.”

  “And what is your point, boy?” The younger boy leaned into the turn as they slid through into narrower channel. “The dead act in strange ways. And some of them come back to haunt me.”

  Tamerlan couldn’t help but smile under the cloak of darkness – a whimsical smile. Imagine living a life where everything outside the boats didn’t exist to you? Imagine living with the same few people on the water day after day, year after year, trading with those you think of as ghosts for food and supplies. He could imagine it. It felt – beautifully foreign. Like a song in a different language.

  When he’d freed Marielle and started his orphanage and no one was left empty and fatherless and alone, then he was going to go and explore the world. He was going to see all the places and meet all the people and write down their beautiful tragedies and peculiarly attractive notions in a book. And he would call it the Book of Hearts and it would be in a Library where everyone could read it and ...

  “You dreaming again, boy? What happened after you killed all those priests?”

  Tamerlan sighed. He wouldn’t be writing a book today. “We stole a boat and fed the refugees.”

  “You brought food to the poor on a boat?” Jhinn snorted. “Yes, I can see why you’re worried. Terrible deeds done tonight. They will fear your name in the canal gossip and set charms to keep you at bay.”

  “Laugh all you want. It’s dangerous to call the Legends. And I did it twice. Once to get the Grandfather. Once to fight those Harbingers.”

  Jhinn spat. “That was wise. You must avoid the Retribution at all costs. Accept nothing from them!”

  Tamerlan felt his jaw gingerly. Jhinn had helped him find dry clothes after his own were soaked in the canal – why were they always guard’s clothes? Did Jhinn have a secret connection with the Palace Guard pursers? – and he’d helped apply a salve to Tamerlan’s injuries, but they still stung.

  “All I got from them was a beating.”

  “Be sure it stays that way. They are dangerous people.”

  Tamerlan pulled the yellow shell from his belt pouch. It was wet but intact. He looked at in the light of the moon. They’d said they’d given it to Marielle. Had it been dangerous to her? The opening of the Bridge of Legends by Etienne had been what sealed her fate. Not this shell.

  Jhinn’s breath drew in sharply. “They gave you that?”

  “It was Marielle’s. They say they gave it to her.”

  “Don’t touch it. It’s cursed.”

  “How?”

  “Just don’t touch it, okay? Put it away. And then pay attention. We need to sneak now. We’re almost there.”

  Tamerlan tucked the shell away and looked up. Jhinn was right. They were almost to the tall building at the University District. The one Lila kept harping on.

  I told you. Get us to that building. Open the Bridge, and I’ll take care of everything.

  But that was what he was worried about.

  I won’t kill anyone. This time. We’ll just break into the palace and find the Library. You and Etienne couldn’t get into it without discovery. The Palace library will have what we need – books you haven’t read yet about the Grandfather. The key will be in there somewhere and then we can find him again. Or do you want to spend another two months searching every hidey hole from here to the sea?

  Besides, there might be a suggestion in one of those books for a solution that doesn’t leave you blind.

  He didn’t even have months. Not with Marielle stuck in that clock. How long would she keep her humanity? How long would it be until she lost herself entirely?

  He gritted his teeth.

  “Can you hear them talk to me, Jhinn?” he whispered. “The Legends? They never stop.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Jhinn said, but his eyes were on their goal. “But you could probably quiet them if you wanted to.”

  He couldn’t. He’d tried and he couldn’t.

  “Anyone else would think I was mad.”

  “Mad is better than blind,” Jhinn said, still distracted. “That Lord Mythos doesn’t even see them.”

  But was it better? He could never escape their cloying words, dragging him deeper and deeper into their view of the world.

  You already smoked the Spice twice tonight, Lila crooned. Just do it one more time. Just do
it with me.

  She could be so charming when she was trying. And it was so easy to listen. Especially right now when he’d just smoked twice before. After all, if he’d already compromised his morals, what was one more time? He could stop again tomorrow and never do it again.

  Exactly.

  It couldn’t hurt for this. And there was no other way he was going to get into the palace. Etienne said it wasn’t worth the risk. There were guards posted at every gate. And they were alert in these troubled times. He’d already waited for hours on other nights, staring at this palace and wondering how to get in.

  And it will feel good.

  This was the only way.

  “What did she mean about you going blind?” Jhinn asked. “Is your good eye troubling you?”

  “Etienne wants me to trap the Grandfather by sacrificing my other Eye,” Tamerlan said, surprised by the calmness in his voice. He didn’t feel that calm.

  Jhinn snorted.

  “Tell Etienne that he has two eyes. He can sacrifice one before he makes you lose the other. There is more than one way to fillet a catfish.”

  Tamerlan’s fingers drifted up to touch the ruby necklace under his shirt. “I don’t think I’d trust Etienne to do that. He has his own purposes.”

  Jhinn eased the gondola into a shadowy mooring. “Then I guess you should go to the land of the dead and get us some information. Find another way. I’ll wait here for you.”

  Tamerlan leapt from the gondola with the coil of rope they’d brought with them. “If I don’t come back in an hour, get out of here. I don’t want you to get caught up in this.”

  Jhinn rolled his eye. “Are the dead speaking to me again? It must only be my imagination.”

  It was such a silly belief. But sometimes Tamerlan wished it was true. He wished it was true as he stalked into the shadows at the base of the looming Court of Trespasses. After all, if it were true, he would be guiltless. He’d never committed any crimes on the water.