by Rebecca Daff
Megland waved her apology off and took a seat on the room’s only chair. “There was no way for you to know what was happening. Digs said you don’t have Swampers where you come from.”
“Earth doesn’t have Swampers or magic, or anything, really. People pretty much just go to work and come home. With a couple of days off on the weekend.”
Megland shook her head in wonder. “I’m not sure what a ‘weekend’ is, but I couldn’t imagine a world free from Swampers. It sounds wonderful.”
Chris had never thought of the monotony of life on Earth in quite that way before. Maybe there was something nice about it.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Megland said.
“Everyone in the caves were cold. Like cold air came off them when they were close. But you and Digs aren’t like that. Why? And why is everyone so scared here? When we were riding to the castle with The Last Resort everybody looked terrified.”
“You rode here with The Last Resort?” she quickly asked. So quickly, in fact, that Chris didn’t notice she’d dodged the first question.
“Yeah. We crossed paths in the savannah and he offered Micah and me a ride.”
“Did you tell him who you are or any information about where you come from?”
“Of course not. I’m not going to tell that to just anybody.”
Megland seemed to relax a little. “Thank God. The Last Resort is responsible for gathering any stray Marked and bringing them back to Polaris. He’s one of the king’s most trusted servants.”
“He said he brings them back to be reunited with their families.”
“Then he lied,” Megland said. “The Marked he brings back go straight to a holding cell. No one knows what happens after that. But they don’t leave. I’ve tried to find out what happens to them, but in all the years I’ve been working here I can’t get close. They’re guarded night and day. But what I’m concerned with right now is how to get you out of the north and somewhere safe. Then we can decide where to go from there.”
“Wait. Digs said you’d be able to help Micah and me get home. We need to get back, like, today.”
“I doubt Digs would have promised anything of the sort. He brought you here with the hope that I might be able to help, and I’ll do my best. But I can’t send you home any more than he could.”
“What kind of place is this?” Chris asked. She was trying to keep her cool but failing. “There’s magic but no one’s allowed to use it except for Swampers, and they suck what little people do have out. And as it stands, it seems like they’re the only ones who can send me home.”
Megland stood but didn’t approach Chris. “I understand,” she said, but when Chris shot her an angry look she immediately corrected herself. “Alright, I can’t possibly imagine what you’re going through, but you’re not alone in this. You have your friend, Micah, and my brother and I will help in any way we can. And as for why the Swampers do what they do, it’s the way things have always been done here. They take magic out of those who practice it and put it in dolls.”
Chris stopped in her tracks. “Dolls?”
“Yes.”
“Why in the world would they put magic in a doll?”
Megland gave Chris a small smile. “So the rich can buy them. Only the very wealthy can afford to buy them. They display them in their homes. It’s a matter of pride to have a large collection.”
“So what happens to people after their magic gets sucked out and put into a doll?”
“The light inside them goes out,” Megland said.
Chris thought of the woman she had seen on the savannah, the one The Last Resort had tied up to bring back to Polaris.
“Then they’re put to use,” Megland continued. “They’re trained to work the fields or mines. They’ll do that for the rest of their lives.”
Chris tried to absorb what she’d just heard. “So Swampers suck out people’s souls then Karniv puts them to work as slaves.”
“Yes.”
She was dumbstruck. It was unfathomable to think that slavery existed anywhere anymore. Even somewhere across the universe.
“So Karniv gets free labor out of it. What do the Swampers get?” Chris asked.
“Money, of course, but also protection. No matter what they do they are immune from foreign threat. They’re untouchable.”
Megland rose, walked over to a large armoire, and opened it. “I have to get back to work before I’m missed,” she said as she rifled through the dresses hanging there. “We can’t leave for several days if I’m to gather supplies without raising suspicion. Meanwhile, you are a family friend from another kingdom… maybe Amberthane.” She pulled out a dark blue long-sleeved gown. “Tonight you must do what is expected and dine in the great hall.”
“With Karniv?”
“Yes,” Megland said, holding the dress out in front of her and comparing it with Chris, sizing her up. “You must keep up appearances while you’re here, never letting on who you really are. I’ll keep gathering supplies for our journey until we have enough to leave. Until then you need to look and act the part of someone actually from this world.”
Chris stood and reluctantly took the dress from Megland’s hands.
“Tonight,” Megland said, “you dine with the king.”
CHAPTER 8
The Hall wasn’t a hallway like Chris had thought it would be. But why should it have been? What was so great about hallways anyway? Back home they were only a passageway from one part of a lonely, empty house to another. Here, well, here a hall was worth seeing.
It was nighttime when the large wooden doors to the keep swung open and Chris entered the castle proper. From the music she could hear, she thought it would be bright and crowded with peasants or something. Instead, her first impression was of the plain gray floors and high walls that got lost in the black cloth of night sagging low above her. She looked around the room, taking in the torches that sputtered and sent swirling snakes of smoke into the air. The hushed mutterings of those who milled about seemed to dissipate whenever she got close to a group. Everyone’s gaze rested on Chris a moment before they returned to their conversations.
The music was quieter inside than it had been outside. It was buffered, like the instruments were smothered with pillows. The band was tucked away in a far, darkened corner, their silhouettes backlit by a dying torch.
Chris couldn’t shake the feeling that all the conversations in the room, the shadows that shifted and jumped in the flickering torchlight, even the faceless, shapeless band in the corner, were clandestine. The whole hall had an air of something sinister.
“Megland saved our seats.” Hannah walked over to her, smiling. She took Chris by the elbow, leading her around the enormous rectangular table that took up most of the room.
“Maids eat with the king?” Chris asked.
Hannah nodded. “It’s his way of showing that he’s a king of the people.”
Chris followed her to their seats and wondered if she really believed that Karniv had his people’s interest at heart. Their spot at the table was firmly in the middle—not too close or too far away from the empty seat at the end. Micah was seated across from them. He was dressed in a gray tunic, and it looked like he had recently bathed. All the dirt from the mines was gone. She’d never seen him look so handsome.
“Remember,” Megland said quietly as Chris took her seat next to Hannah, “reveal nothing.”
No sooner had Chris sat than everyone at the table stood, their chairs scraping against the stone floor. She pushed her seat back and rose with the rest.
Hannah whispered into her ear, “He’s not as scary as he looks.”
“What?”
Megland shushed them. Then the only sound was the solid thump of hard soles as the king emerged from a dim corridor. His bulk filled the doorframe and he had to duck his head to fit through. Chris expected the worst—a giant come to fill his belly, everyone’s bones ground into flour for his bread. But she would never have
expected this.
Karniv stepped into the torch’s glow. It reflected off his black fur. It made the fangs that protruded from his maw glisten. And it revealed his lumbering gait as he strode to the head of the table.
Even if Chris had never been told that this creature was a king she would have known it. She’d never seen one in person and used to think that only a human could be one, but the way Karniv held himself, his assuredness and posture, let her know: this is who’s in charge.
After he sat he raised a paw, gesturing to the table, and everyone took a seat. Chris fiddled with her napkin nervously, placing it on her lap while keeping a wary eye on the monarch at the table’s end.
“You could have told me the king’s a bear,” she whispered to Hannah.
“Sorry.” She was grinning so Chris was pretty sure she wasn’t really. “But you must know that kings and queens are all from beyond the Swamplands.”
“Of course I know that,” she said. “It’s just that ours isn’t a bear.”
“But I thought the last mountain king was a bear,” Hannah said.
“Right.” Chris tried to think of a way out. “But I never saw him. And I have a thing about bears. I’m scared of them.”
Hannah looked skeptical but said, “I hate spiders,” and left it at that. Chris breathed a sigh of relief but doubted the conversation was really over.
Luckily, the dinner itself was uneventful. They feasted on boiled potatoes, vegetables, and fresh strawberries. Chris had been worried that it they were going to be served live squid or something potentially poisonous to someone from Earth. It was an extremely lucky break.
Karniv didn’t eat. Hannah told Chris it was because he was self-conscious about not being able to use silverware. But when Chris stole glances his way she noticed how he was constantly looking at everyone around the table, seemingly sizing them up. Occasionally, he would use one of his long claws to pick at his teeth. She was thinking that his lack of participation had more to do with an already full belly than mere embarrassment.
When the last plate had been taken away by the servers, King Karniv raised his paw and everyone stood. Chris smiled in relief. It seemed like she’d made it through without having to answer a single question. Crisis averted.
The serving staff reentered the room. Chris followed Megland, Hannah, and Micah to stand clustered with everyone else—except for the king who stood off a bit to the side near the doors. Chris wondered why they weren’t leaving. Every second they stayed was another chance that she would be noticed and subsequently found out.
The chairs and table were moved to a far wall.
“Guess we’re dancing,” Hannah said.
“Wait. What?!” Chris said, panicked.
Micah reached for her arm to comfort her but stopped. “We’ll be okay. We’ve made it this far.”
Megland stepped in. “Keep to the shadows along the wall,” she said to both of them. “Politely decline offers to dance. Stay away from Karniv. He may seek you out.”
Chris realized she had been slowly hunching over, trying to make herself shorter so she wouldn’t stand out as much. She straightened back up. “Why didn’t you warn us something like this could happen?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding like she actually meant it. “Dances don’t happen very often, usually only on special occasions. Karniv must be celebrating something. I’ll do my best to keep him distracted. Who knows? He may be too concerned with the problems south of here to concern himself with you two.” She gave Chris’s shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s hope for the best.”
The last of the furniture was pushed aside and the band started playing a flutey, lilting tune. It reminded Chris a little of Peter and the Wolf. The darkness in the room’s corners seemed to deepen as every gruesome fairy tale she’d heard as a child bombarded her mind.
She slowly backed her way through the crowd and carefully nudged past a large man in chain mail. No way was she going to be lured in by a Swamper, witch, or otherwise.
She stopped making her way backwards when she felt her shoulder blades thump against solid stone. In the space between a couple of people’s heads she could just make out the king weaving through the crowd. Before he got too close, Megland stepped out in front of everyone and curtsied, dipping low to the floor. King Karniv hesitated for only a moment, looking over the heads of those in front. Chris slid a little to the left to hide behind the chain mail guy’s frame. She peeked over his shoulder just in time to see Karniv bow and lead Megland out onto the floor.
Other couples drifted toward them and Chris took the opportunity to follow the wall to the room’s most secluded corner. Night had completely taken hold in that one small section of The Hall. The other guests seemed to be avoiding it, opting instead to gather around the relative safety of the weak torch light.
She had almost completely backed into the corner when she bumped into someone.
“Sorry!” she said, quickly backing out of the shadows.
“You cleaned up good.”
As soon as he spoke Chris knew who it was: The Last Resort. He stepped out to the shadow’s edge. It was eerie how his smile could look both humorous and dead serious at the same time.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. He had changed out of his safari gear and was wearing a tunic draped over his shirt. In the middle of its field of red were the wide tracks of a bear, complete with four inch claws.
“Eating. Dancing. Same as you.”
“Please don’t say anything about finding me and Micah out in the savannah,” she said. She hated the way she sounded just then. It was whiney, so close to begging. “Just, please, don’t say anything.”
“About what?” He gave her an innocent, wide-eyed expression.
The band played the song’s final chord, and Karniv strode toward the crowd once more. Fortunately, Hannah made herself available, and she and the king began a waltzy kind of dance when the band started again. Chris wondered how long this tactic was going to work. It wasn’t like Micah was going to volunteer next.
“You know, it’s plain as day, what you are,” The Last Resort said.
“Really?” She couldn’t hide her disbelief. How could he have possibly learned the truth?
“Yep. A foreigner, plain as day.”
She laughed in relief. “You’re not wrong there.”
The song playing from across the room was faster than the last one. The crowd around Chris began to thin out as more people joined in the dancing.
“It’s just a matter of time,” he said. “You may be safe here for now, but sooner or later people will find out where you’re from. And both of us know you ain’t from the mountains.”
Hannah. “What if I’m not?”
He leaned in. “Karniv ain’t one to be lied to. If you’re a spy and he finds out he’ll hand you over to the Swampers.”
“I’m not a spy.”
The dancers were picking up speed now, swinging each other around the floor in what looked like a reel.
“Don’t matter,” he said, turning his head to the side and spitting on the floor. “God, you’re green, you know? Haven’t your friends told you anything about this kingdom?” He nodded to indicate Megland, who was looking at Chris, her face tight with concern.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. How did he seem to know so much?
“Exactly.” He sighed. “I tell you what. What I do is hard enough without having to deal with this shit. My job is to take care of poachers and round up any stray Marked. Far as I can tell you’re neither so I won’t say a thing. Just do me a favor: watch out for mercenaries ‘cause to them you’re a plum ripe for pickin’. And don’t cause me any problems. You seem like a nice kid. I’d really hate to kill you.”
Megland approached them. “And how are you this evening, Lionel?” She smiled, a slight upturn of the lips.
The Last Resort’s name was Lionel?
He smiled back at her with the same distant familiarity. “I’m we
ll, thank you. Just having a mighty interesting conversation with this young lady.”
“That’s nice,” she said through her teeth. “May I borrow her for a moment?”
“Of course.” The Last Resort bowed low. “Until we meet again, Chris.”
Not sure what to do, Chris dipped a quick curtsy and let Megland steer her through the crowd back to where Micah stood. A new dance was starting and the king had a new partner. He moved with her, rocking his heft from side to side.
“I was actually learning a lot from him,” Chris said to Megland.
“You had no business speaking with him. If he learned too much it would be disastrous.”
“I think she’s right.” Micah said.
“You’re taking her side?” Chris asked.
“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” he said. “It’s just that Megland knows more about what The Last Resort is—”
“Lionel. The Last Resort is just his title,” Megland interrupted.
“Lionel,” Micah corrected himself, “is really like.”
Chris crossed her arms. “Fine. I won’t talk to him. But I can’t help it if he talks to me first. If I avoid him he might think something’s up.”
Megland took a step back and looked at Chris. “You trust him. You actually think Lionel is a good person.”
Chris glanced back over at The Last Resort who waved good-naturedly while nursing a cup of punch.
“Maybe,” Chris said.
Megland looked at her in disbelief.
“I don’t think it matters,” Micah said. “We’re going to be out of here soon anyway, right? Let’s just get through tonight and go from there.”
“What did he tell you?” Megland asked Chris as though she hadn’t even heard him.
Micah sighed. “I’m getting punch.”
“I learned more from him in two minutes than I’ve learned from you since I got here,” Chris said, not even noticing Micah had walked away.