Maybe you should give it a try.
He almost scooped up an orange before he stopped himself. Wait. Had those thoughts been his, or Lila’s? He’d never had a problem with Etienne’s pride ...
Shaking his head to clear it, Tamerlan leapt from the boat to join the others on the ledge and scrambled to follow Etienne as he hurried towards the nearest steps up to the streets.
The Harbingers were distracted, looking constantly at the orange boats as if they expected them to produce dragons out of the oranges like hatching eggs. Liandari tripped, catching herself on the rock. She needed to watch where she was going!
Tamerlan’s mouth formed a firm line, but they were almost to the steps now. Etienne seemed distracted, too, as he drew his sword and Tamerlan pushed past the Harbingers to join him in the front, drawing his own sword to use as a threat as they forced their way up the steps, pushing the orange-throwing citizens up in front of them.
“Make way!” Etienne bellowed. “Make way!”
“What’s troubling you?” Tamerlan said as they crested the last step, holding their place until Liandari and Anglarok slid up behind them.
“Today, we were supposed to take Yan,” Etienne said calmly. “If Allegra hadn’t withdrawn her support. It could have brought hope for my people. A second chance. I’m missing it.”
“A civil war?” He didn’t know why he sounded shocked. With the fall of Jingen and the burning of H’yi, this should seem like a normal thing. Nothing was shocking anymore.
“Sometimes we must do what we must.”
Interesting. His father thought he had all the power in Yan right now, and yet there were ways he could be toppled. It would be as easy as ...
His thoughts were interrupted by a growl of approval from Anglarok and he followed the man’s gaze to where a new burst of voices roared together in a single war cry.
“Retribution!”
Oranges flew in every direction as they poured from the barges floating in the canals. Not one or two or three people, but hundreds of men and women in loose trousers and long vests, their arms and necks and torsos tattooed with coastlines and maps. They waved harpoons in the air, pouring onto the canal ledges and shoving up the stairs violently.
“Did you know?” Etienne asked, whirling to confront Liandari and Anglarok. “Did you know about this?”
He sounded hysterical. There wasn’t time for this.
“No time!” Tamerlan yelled, grabbing Etienne by the upper arm and dragging him toward the buildings on the other side of the street.
Wars would have to be dealt with later.
One thing at a time.
Exactly! Abelmeyer was right about that.
Screams erupted around them as people fled, slipping on smashed oranges and falling under each other’s feet. Doors slammed along the street, barring access to any but their own. Behind them, shrieks of horror filled the air with the clash of steel and the cries of injured and dying.
Oranges were no match for real weapons.
And the Retribution would be on them in a heartbeat if they didn’t move.
Tamerlan plunged toward an alley as Etienne continued to question the Harbingers.
“Are you with us or them now that the attack has begun? I must know if you’ll stay the course!”
“We swore on blood and water,” Liandari growled. “We will help you trap the Legend.”
But Anglarok was watching his compatriots with longing, stealing looks over his back as they flooded over the streets.
Tamlerlan clenched his jaw and ran down the alley, leaping over people scrambling from building to building, trying to return to their homes.
“Find shelter!” he roared at them. “Find weapons. You’re under attack, you fools!”
A seven-year-old boy ran toward him in the alley and Tamerlan scooped him up, practically throwing him up the steps of a nearby home.
“Inside,” he yelled. “Get inside!”
The child darted inside the door. Whether it was his home or another, he would be safer there than the chaos of the streets. Tamerlan paused for a heartbeat, torn over whether to say with the child but with the Grandfather loose in Choan, worse things than invasion might happen and he was the only one capable of stopping the Legend.
Had he just thought that or had that been the voices in his head?
The light at the end of the alley bobbed in front of him and a sense of pulling drove him toward the white building at the end of the long, dark alley. The Embalmers.
He pushed every ounce of power into his legs and ran. Bursting out into the street into a hell of flying fruit, stampeding people and screams. Tattooed invaders rushed down the street, flinging people in every direction so that ruined bodies and smashed oranges mingled in a stew of blood and acid.
Crouching low, Tamerlan held his sword at the ready, Etienne moving to cover his right side.
“Those are my people,” Liandari shouted over the chaos. “You can’t stick a blade in them!”
“Then tell them not to kill us!” Etienne roared back as a harpoon smashed into his sword.
“Retribution! By the salt, I’ll have your hides!” Liandari roared. “Back, you mob of crabs! Back!”
Her shout didn’t stop the charging man right in front of Tamerlan. The man lowered his harpoon and rushed toward Tamerlan. If only he’d smoked! If only he had someone else controlling these amateur arms of his!
He brought his sword into place just in time to deflect the attack, pushing with his blade to push the harpoon to the side. His enemy pulled back only to lunge again as Tamerlan leapt to the side, grabbed the haft of the harpoon and pulled, flinging his blade tip in front of the other man’s chest just in time to pull him into the blade.
His gut twisted within him as the man’s face crumpled in pain.
“No time for that,” Etienne yelled, tugging at his arm as Tamerlan fought to free his blade from his enemy’s ribs.
Somehow, Liandari had broken through the assault, carving a way to the doors of the Embalming Guild.
Tamerlan yanked his sword free, sliding and slipping after Etienne, not daring to look at his feet, not wanting to see that it may be people and not oranges he was stumbling over.
“Hurry,” Anglarok said. “I smell worse to come!”
They reached the doors and Etienne wrenched them open, stumbling inside. But Tamerlan wasn’t sure if he should be more worried about what was within or what was without. Outside was invasion, violence, and death. Inside, was the Grandfather – probably. Or, at the very least, Maid Chaos’ avatar. And either one of those made his bowels feel like water.
24: Chaos Born
Tamerlan
Come on! Come on! Kill! Maid Chaos’ voice broke through the chaos in his mind.
His head was aching so hard from all the voices that he felt dazed. Pain sliced through his mind at the louder voice cutting over the rest.
I can feel the avatar. She is close! Hurry!
And there’s more, Lila Cherrylocks interrupted. I feel Choan stirring.
No time for that! Maid Chaos again. Focus! Focus!
Dragon. Ram was always focused.
If they were lucky, she wouldn’t already be dead. If they were lucky.
The Grandfather is with her. You must be ready.
That meant he had to smoke. Tamerlan stumbled along behind Etienne, holding his head in one hand, trying to think. Could there be a downside to smoking?
Open the Bridge! Do it! Or you’ll be too late.
Last time there hadn’t been a downside. Abelmeyer had performed wonderfully. It felt wrong to rely so much on the Legends, but when he smoked the chaos was gone, the voices silent – except for one. He would be able to think again. But Abelmeyer hadn’t been willing to use the Eye. And this time, they needed to use it.
Clamor filled his mind as the Legends urged him to listen, making thought impossible.
Let us guide you!
We will help!
Open the Bridge!
Of course we’ll use Abelmeyer’s Eye!
“I smell something strange below,” Anglarok said. “Something beyond embalming spices and blood. And it must be powerful to drown those out!”
Open it!
Anglarok pulled out a shell from his pocket, placing it to his ear.
“It’s here somewhere. Something ... wrong.”
“Then we have to hurry,” Liandari said, looking back at the door they’d barred behind them. “The invasion is succeeding. This building won’t be empty for long.”
They all looked nervous. But to them, the chaos was without, and to Tamerlan the chaos was within.
Let it end. Open the Bridge. I will take your hand! Abelmeyer called to him.
Let me out! Lila Cherrylocks insisted. You know I can help you! I will use Abelmeyer’s Eye for you!
My avatar! My avatar!
Tamerlan clutched his head, trying to hold back the pain of their screams.
“There must be a way down,” Etienne muttered, running his hands along the wainscoting on the wall as Liandari perused the shelves upon shelves of spices.
“This is for the dead?” she asked. “But why is there no one here?”
Etienne shook his head. “I don’t know. But I see no doors to below, only steps to the floors above.”
“I smell the dead everywhere,” Anglarok said with his nose wrinkling. “But there is something more.”
He sniffed along the wall, following his nose like a hunting dog. Tamerlan felt a pang of sadness at the sight. He looked just like Marielle.
And she’ll never get out of the clock unless you let us out!
Nothing else mattered compared to freeing her. He was past redemption, but there was still hope if he could only free her.
It was his choice to make. And his choice was Marielle.
He took a roll of Spice from his sleeve. This wasn’t the time to be fussy. He needed to open the Bridge and let out a Legend before they found the way down. It was his only hope to use the Eye and trap the Grandfather.
There was still a fire burning in the hearth. He plunged the roll into the fire and lit the end.
His hand was shaking. He wasn’t ready to go blind. But what other choice was there?
“Here it is!” Anglarok said, pressing his fingers to the carved edge of the wainscoting. The floor beneath them began to slide and an opening formed with steps leading downward.
“Come on, Tamerlan,” Etienne called, catching Tamerlan’s eye and shaking his head at the Spice.
Tamerlan hurried to follow, but he kept the roll of Spice at his side. Etienne might disapprove, but they still needed the Spice. They needed the Legends. They needed all the help they could get. No matter the cost to him.
He hurried down the steps behind Etienne and the Harbingers, nearly stumbling over Anglarok as the man fell to his knees, clutching his face. Moaning in high pitched agony as he tried to cover his nose and mouth from whatever smell was below.
No time for that.
Tamerlan leapt over Anglarok’s crouched body, hurrying down the steps. Below was the Maid Chaos’s avatar, and the Grandfather would be there – he was sure of it. If he did this right, they would save Marielle at long last.
25: Stalking Madness
Marielle
She’d followed them from a distance. They didn’t seem to notice her unless she was close, but they buzzed around him like bees, their ghostly selves flickering in and out of sight as they stalked him. His head was in his hands as if he were trying to block them out, while around him they each tried to whisper into his ears.
Maybe out in the real world they might look grand or noble, but to Marielle, the ghosts of the Legends looked like gnarled, twisted spirits. Their translucent appearances winked in and out, elongating to stretch toward Tamerlan’s ears as they spoke incessantly to him.
Let us out! Let us out!
It was a wonder he wasn’t mad!
Or maybe he was. Maybe that explained a lot.
She felt a twinge of pain – or was it fear? – at the thought of Tamerlan going mad. It felt deeply personal, somehow.
He was fighting them as they went down the stairs. Marielle followed a few paces behind them. Tamerlan couldn’t see her and the spirits were too obsessed with him to notice her. Why him? Why did they all plague him? They didn’t seem to notice Etienne or the Windsniffer and Liandari.
It was hard to watch the Harbingers working with Tamerlan. It ached to think that they could help while she was stuck. She just wanted to be with them. She just wanted to help with this fight – whatever it was. She clenched her fists, watching as the Legends grew more frenzied. They whirled around Tamerlan like dry leaves in the wind. Whispering, whispering, whispering.
And then she felt him.
“The Grandfather,” she whispered and her eyes left Tamerlan as she searched for him.
He was here somewhere. She could feel it. She could locate almost anyone now that she was in the clock. She wasn’t sure how, only that she could, like swimming in a current. You could guide where the current took you, but you couldn’t control the current.
She smelled his foul insanity – the astringent scent of elderberry and malicious intent – rust-like and powerful. The insanity warped the colors around him, making them more vibrant but much less stable.
If she could just see how he flashed through time and space – maybe she could duplicate that, too. Maybe, she wouldn’t have to stay in this clock ...
26: Beneath the Embalmer’s Guild
Tamerlan
A large crack split the air and a cry. He jumped the last four steps, landing in a crouch to see Liandari in a heap on the ground in front of him, her sword still clattering over the stone. Etienne stood in front of him, blade raised, coat swirling around him.
They’d been right.
The Grandfather was here.
The Grandfather rushed toward them in the green glow of the light on this lower floor, his hands held out. He was in front of them but then suddenly he was behind Etienne with his hands wrapped around the man’s throat as if there had been no distance at all between one point and the next.
Tamerlan bit back a curse, but he needed no more prodding. Desperately, he jammed the rolled paper in his mouth, pulling on it like a dying man sucking in his last breaths.
His mind cleared and he was rushing forward, tube of paper still stuck to his lower lip, as the Legend took his body.
Maid Chaos.
Dragon’s spit! Fear and rage shot through him and for a moment he wasn’t sure if it was his fear and rage over having drawn her from the Legends or hers over the Grandfather’s presence in her shrine.
Use the Eye!
She leapt at the Grandfather like a jungle cat leaping out on its prey. Glee filled her mental voice as she ripped him off Etienne’s back by sheer force, lifting him in Tamerlan’s arms and flinging him against the stone wall beside them. There was a cracking sound.
He should have slumped to the ground, but Legends didn’t slump. He was back on his feet in an instant, dodging back behind the glowing thing at the center of the room.
Tamerlan finally caught a good look at it and if he’d been in charge of his body, he would have frozen in horror. He was not. Maid Chaos laughed with his voice, delight filling her at the grisly sight.
Whoever had done that to a once-living thing either had taken great care out of respect or out of a grisly obsession.
Standing rigid and half-wrapped stood a black, shriveled ... thing. That it had once been human was – possible – though not clear. What flesh it once had was dried and clung to the bones like peel to fruit. Whether it was male or female was beyond telling. Someone had wrapped it from feet to waist in woven cloths. But from the waist up, the cloths were torn, stained, and jagged – as if the creature had enough life to pull them off that far but no farther. It glowed a sickly green. Why did it glow? That made no sense at all.
My avatar.
He’d thought that Maid Chaos was a beautiful woman with flowing blonde hair and a breastplate of gold.
I was. In life.
But the other avatars had been recognizable. Deathless Pirate had clearly been himself. Queen Mer had been like her legends. The Grandfather had been untouched by the ravages of time.
My people tried their best. Their efforts were not perfect. They wanted to maintain life in my corporal body long past the time. It was a valiant attempt.
And a horrific result.
I bathe in horror. I revel in desecration.
And she was in his mind. Controlling his body. His soul shuddered.
And she wasn’t staying still.
As the Grandfather dashed behind her avatar, banging and clanging as he reached for some implement off a nearby rack, Maid Chaos followed. She drew Tamerlan’s sword letting it drag along the scabbard, so it came out with a rasping sound as she laughed.
Not the sword! The Eye.
I’m going to kill him. I don’t need an Eye for that!
“As it was written long ago, ‘She will dash him to the rocks. She will defy time. She will say – no further!’ My followers used that prophecy to guide them in the creation of this avatar, but today it comes true in your presence, Grandfather. Today, I slay you.”
She leapt forward, but he was faster. He stepped out from the rack of tools with a large sickle – the type used to collect spices for embalming. But this one was larger than any Tamerlan had ever seen. What would you cut with that? It was nearly the size of a scythe.
“So easily you misinterpret. As always, Clarissa. You could never see past the moment,” the Grandfather said. And with a single sweep of his scythe, he slashed through the avatar, cutting her clean through at the waist and smashing the floating jars.
The lights went out.
But Maid Chaos’ scream through Tamerlan’s throat seemed to go on forever. It echoed through time and space until it seemed like Tamerlan might have a living scream within him for the rest of his life.
Bridge of Legends- The Complete Series Page 54