The Harbinger of Change

by Matthew Travagline

  “That night, I was serving. Waiting on tables. First night on the job and I was put through the ropes. I don’t remember how it happened, but I was on the ground and this burly sailor was wearing the ale from my tray. He roughed me up pretty bad.”

  Kiren winced. “What happened?” she asked, leaning forward on her cot.

  “Gnochi took him outside and fought him. Left the sailor unconscious in the mud.”

  “Oh? How romantic.”

  “No, it wasn’t like that,” Cleo said. “He didn’t fight because he was infatuated or trying to impress me. To be honest, I think I forced him to fight in my stead. My echo,” she explained, “which I wasn’t even aware of, may have coerced him to take action.”

  Kiren must have sensed a lull in Cleo’s story, because she said, “Tell me about him.”

  Cleo smoothed out a crease that had formed on the poncho. Her eyes scanned the page she had just written. “He was normal. Or rather, discrete.” She looked up and caught Kiren’s confused gaze. “He wore armor that made him look out of shape just so people would underestimate him. On the surface, he was so plain as to be camouflaged. His eyes were muddled and tired, his expressions and appearances were average and dull. That is, whenever he wasn’t engaged in storytelling. But put the yarn of a story in his needles and he comes to life like you wouldn’t believe. I miss that.

  For a minute, Cleo closed her eyes and imagined the last time she saw him content, telling a story. “I did not know it at the time,” she said, continuing her own tale, “but nightmares were plaguing his dreams. Some of the trauma he wore so openly on his face was due to his family having been kidnapped by his employer.”

  “Nimbus?” Kiren asked.

  “No, I’m talking about Silentore, who was forcing him to commit the crime that got him imprisoned.”

  Kiren nodded as if she did not want to further interrupt Cleo’s words.

  “That’s not to say he was completely without his own vices and crimes,” Cleo said. “He put that all on the side when I forced myself into his life, and even with everything going on, he still found time and energy to teach me things about life and living. I wasn’t exactly proficient in being on my own, so he kept me safe and taught me how to survive. And if that wasn’t enough, he was teaching me how to bard.”

  “He sounds like a good man.”

  “Yes,” Cleo said, feeling tears itch at the back of her eyes. “I hope you get to meet him soon.” She pulled her knees up and rested her chin between them.

  “You’ll see him again, Cleo. Don’t worry. I’ll help you. Both Aarez and I will help you get Gnochi out of this trouble.”

  ◆◆◆

  Ren woke from his slumber, hearing the echo of someone descending into the lower dungeon. He became aware of Gnochi’s moaning. It had become a prevalent white noise in the dungeon since the bard had roused from his pain-induced stupor the day after his torture.

  “Gnochi,” he hissed. “You need to be quiet while the guard is down here, lest he kill you.” Silence came after a moment. Ren did not know if he had heard and understood him or had simply ceased his sorrow on his own.

  The footfalls sounded heavy. Someone stood between both cells. “Good news,” the guard’s voice boomed in the silence. “You both are being transferred. You get to hold onto your pathetic lives for a little while longer.”

  For a while after the guard left, silence gripped the two cells. Then, without prompting, a noise came from Gnochi’s cell, though Ren could not tell if it was a laugh or a cry. He feared learning which it was.

  Chapter 15

  “Should we be worried about Aarez?” Kiren asked.

  “He told us not to be,” Cleo answered, her voice mirroring the impatience she had been feeling all day at the other woman’s pacing. She had retreated into the kitchen and was looking over a pot of boiling water, hoping that her dedication to so mundane a task would dissuade further discussion. “Why should we be? If I’ve learned anything from traveling with him, it’s that he can take care of himself. His echo makes him three times as dangerous as another man his age and size.”

  “But he didn’t say he’d be gone this long.”

  “Maybe he’s discovering himself,” Cleo said, snorting, then covered her laugh at Kiren’s anger. “I’m sure he’s fine, but if it will make you stop working a rut into the entryway floor, I’ll take Perogie and go look for him.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “You most certainly will not. You’re still recovering from your near death freeze out there. I don’t need to be bringing you out there and having to worry about keeping you warm.” She watched the seed of debate disappear from Kiren’s eyes. Had she just used her echo? She didn’t feel under duress or emotionally charged, and she wasn’t worried about Aarez’s safety. Cleo swallowed a lump as she prepared for the journey outside. If her echo was taking control during normal conversations like this, could she even trust her own tongue? At this rate, she would be better off mute.

  ◆◆◆

  Cleo relished the time she was able to spend in Perogie’s company. The mare had not acted the same since before they had left Blue Haven. “I miss him too, you know, ‘Ogie,” she said, patting Perogie’s neck, though the horse offered no response. It seemed focused on placing cautious steps through the knee-high snowdrifts. “I won’t be doing any good for him by worrying. Like Aarez said, if they’ve waited this long, maybe they aren’t going to execute him.”

  At mention of the ventriloquist’s name, the horse pricked her ears and sucked in a rush of crisp air, flaring her nostrils. She then halted and remained stationary despite Cleo’s kneading.

  Though she listened for what had spooked the mare, she failed to hear anything other than the pained howls of the wind tearing through trees barren of their leaves. Content that nothing was amiss, she urged Perogie forward.

  The black mare inched only a step before stopping, her eyes trained on a spot in the distance.

  After staring for a minute, Cleo managed to spy a wispy trail of dark grey smoke against the afternoon clouds, a shade lighter. No matter how much she urged Perogie forward, the mare would not budge. Sighing, she dismounted. After arming herself with her quarterstaff, she tied Perogie to a low branch. “Fine. Stay here then. I’m going to check it out.” Despite the mare’s efforts to nuzzle her rider into staying, Cleo maneuvered around the snout and trudged away.

  She heard a wolf’s howl sound from a faraway section of the woods. A lump of fear rose in her throat, but she swallowed it back, figuring the wolf to be far enough away. Not a minute after hearing the howl came a second; this one, closer. The morose sound sent shivers down her spine. Despite the poncho that hoarded heat under its wool, Cleo felt cold. She tucked the front of the poncho behind her back like a cape so she could swing her arms more freely, then continued toward the smoke.

  She glanced back toward Perogie. Through the trees that separated them, she saw the mare tracking her as she would a treat. “Be ready, ‘Ogie,” Cleo whispered, though the wind stole her words before they could assure the skittish horse.

  Nearing the source of the smoke, her breathing quickened. She leveled her staff in anticipation. An earthy musk that reminded her of Harvey tickled the back of her throat. Was the teen nearby? Upon rounding the other side of a mounded hillock of snow, Cleo saw Aarez staring down three wolves. Neither party immediately spotted her, so entrenched in their standoff that they were. Despite the fire, this was not a permanent camp. It seemed that Aarez had only settled here after chasing down the deer which lay half-gutted in the snow, a pile of discarded organs lay nearby, steaming.

  Her companion, for his part, looked as ragged as someone who lived off the land. A thin dusting of snow speckled his dark, greasy hair. His chin held onto a patchy beard as though it would protect his face from the cold, though whatever exposed skin showed through looked frigid.

  His clothes, which might have provided comfort during a brisk fall day, all sported snow. Tiny puffs of
steam swirled out of his nose, though his relaxed stance seemed unaffected by the cold. A ruby stream ran from his short sword, down his fingers, and into the snow. Aarez seemed oblivious to the smile that touched his lips, or how it made him, with blood dripping down his bare hands, look like he had just enjoyed committing murder.

  Cleo remembered a night when she and Gnochi were travelling alone. A wolf happened upon their campsite hoping to score an easy meal.

  “You usually have little to fear from wolves,” Gnochi had said after the hunter scampered off. “They won’t go out of their way to attack us. If they’re brazen enough to confront you, it’s probably best to surrender your meat or hunt.”

  Cleo considered shouting a warning out to Aarez to advise him to abandon the deer when she remembered the rest of Gnochi’s lesson.

  “Things change completely in the winteryear. Even nature’s valedictory hunters suffer during the extended winter. If you see they’ve got a dazed look in their eyes, and their skin and fur pull tight on their bones, you’re in trouble.”

  Of the three wolves, the first was black as a cloudy night sky, the second, an ashy color reminiscent of a dirty hearth. The third, which Cleo figured to be the alpha because of its size, blended perfectly with the fallen snow. She studied their stances, eyeing their expressions and noting their physiques. With a gulp, Cleo realized that these was the exact situation that Gnochi had warned her about. She felt a lump of ice solidify her gut, chills rippling through her body, numbing her fingers and toes.

  Finally, she decided to join the standoff and even the odds more. The three aggressors noticed her first, their glossy gazes moved in synch to eye the new prey. The white wolf sniffed loudly at her, a slice of pink tongue escaping the sanctity of the mouth to moisten its lips.

  Aarez noticed their shifting concentration. His head remained facing the trio, though his eyes edged over her with a fury that reminded her of Pidgeon in the moment before he slugged her. He clenched his teeth, though out of anger, not as a response to the cold.

  “I need to be alone. You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice fainter than a whisper. “Back out of here before they move.”

  “I know you’re worried about me, but I can handle myself,” Cleo said.

  “I’m not worried. I’d rather not explain to Skuddy that you got mauled to death by three wolves. Won’t help out my cause.”

  Cleo smiled, not believing her friend’s excuse. “Isolation isn’t going to help you. And I’m not about to leave you to the wolves, literally” Cleo said, snickering. The alpha cocked its head on an angle upon hearing Cleo’s laugh. “These wolves. Gnochi warned me about them. In the winteryear, their food source dwindles. They aren’t just here for the deer,” she explained.

  Aarez frowned. His posture relaxed a tad, as though he had regained an ounce of his life. “The man is in a dungeon across Lyrinth and still he manages to be a better guardian.” He inched over to put his sword, and his body, between the wolves and Cleo. “We stand our ground together. I hope you know how to use that walking stick.”

  Cleo could hear the smile in his voice. “Probably better than you know how to use that toothpick,” she said.

  The snow colored wolf snarled, then launched itself in a wide arc to attack Cleo. It jumped, aiming its pearly teeth at her neck.

  Cleo lurched back, shoving her staff at the wolf. She caught the beast under its ribs with its lead-capped end. The force of her thrust threw it into a steep snow-drift, where it flailed around, knocked into a tree, and collapsed under a thick blanket of snow.

  The two beta wolves inched closer to Aarez, drawing his attention. Out of the corner of her eye, Cleo saw him dance around the snapping teeth of the midnight wolf. For a moment, she feared for him; his face seemed to stiffen, reminiscent of Pidgeon’s husk-like state, though the speed of his movements and the fire in his step reassured her that Aarez retained control. Upon glimpsing his blade, she realized where he was sending his life. The short sword, despite being forged of steel, bent with the flexibility of rubber and seemed to stretch beyond its reach in order to keep the beasts at bay.

  Cleo returned her focus to the snow mound where the alpha was buried, but it showed no signs of being disturbed. She wondered if she had knocked the beast out. She turned her attention back to Aarez, watching him swipe with leaden arms at the wolves. Despite the inaccuracy of his swings, she saw the blade curve just enough to slice through the wolves’ coarse fur and break skin. After the first two swipes, wolf-blood coated the blade and dripped down the handle, mingling on Aarez’s hand with already-freezing deer blood.

  The sound of shuffling behind her drew Cleo’s attention back to the alpha who was picking itself out of the snow. Once free, it circled around to flank her. Cleo divided her attention between it and the second of the betas, which, after taking a nasty cut to its right haunch, had singled her out as the weaker prey. Its vicious snarls unnerved her. She tried blocking the curdling noises from her ears but found her blood chilled at the sound.

  Cleo charged at her snow-colored opponent. She kept the staff level with its skull. It reacted slow to her advance, as if it had not expected the human to brazenly attack. The alpha regained its composure a moment too late, for Cleo had smacked the lead-capped staff onto its snout. It recoiled back in shock, dark blood slipping out of its nostrils.

  “Behind you.” Aarez’s voice sounded faint in her ears. Cleo flicked her staff behind her in a twitch reaction, her arms moving faster than her body and mind could have coordinated a turn. She felt her staff pummel into ashen fur. The crunch of bone under its lead-touch splintered through the quiet air.

  Cleo turned, watching as the wolf made to limp out of the clearing, though its gait was sluggish, it collapsed before escaping. Labored breaths and whines of pain sounded from its mouth.

  During her battle, Aarez bested his initial quarry with a slice through its vertebrae. He approached the downed opponent and ended its suffering with a knife planted strategically into its heart.

  Cleo and Aarez turned their attention back to the white wolf, whose tongue lopped blood from its snout, now marred red. It seemed to notice that it was outnumbered and outmatched. Without further conflict, the wolf scooted under a bush and retreated, pained yips echoing from its mouth.

  “Probably warning the others to steer clear,” Cleo said, hefting her staff. She wiped the mixture of blood and fur from its cap into a patch of clean snow underneath.

  “You fight well,” Aarez said, breathing hoarsely as though making up for lost air.

  “Yeah, well, you caught me off guard before,” Cleo said, smiling as she pointed to her injured eye.

  Aarez made no immediate comment. He motioned her over to the deer, his knife working to separate the remaining skin and fur from the muscle underneath. With already bloody hands, he reached into the open cavity, retrieved the remaining organs and tossed them into the still-steaming pile beside the carcass.

  “Cleo, I’m sorry about the other day.” He poked a bloodied finger, leaving a smear of red under his eye. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “I hate seeing you out of control like that.”

  “I came out here to destroy him, if you could believe that,” Aarez said, motioning to the doll, which lay in the snow near the fire.

  Glancing at it, Cleo thought she spied two small trenches dug into its wooden cheeks. She looked down to her gloved hands, wondering. “I’d never ask you to give him up, no matter how rude he is. Plus, I do believe that you’ll learn to control your echo, allowing you to work with Lucas without losing your mind.”

  “Thanks Cleo,” he said, standing and offering his hand before realizing how bloody it was. “I was going to drop this off at Oslow’s before coming back to the manor. Care to accompany me?”

  ◆◆◆

  Kiren held a strict vigil from behind a second story window. She watched the entire afternoon for Cleo to return with Aarez, but after hours of staring into the dead forest counting snowf
lakes, a restless sleep came.

  The harsh bang of an iron knocker jolted Kiren from her daze. She sprang back. Her head had come to a rest on the pane of glass separating her from the cold, though judging from the patch of numb skin on her forehead, the pane prevented little of the cold from seeping in.

  Looking down, she spotted two men standing before the front door, their horses tied up to a nearby tree. From her angle, she could not see much about them except that one’s hair glowed like the morning sun reflecting off the snow, and the other’s skin matched the light bark of the surrounding oaks. They both stood bundled in thick furs, shivering in the cold. The pale-haired man banged with the door-knocker again, impatience evident in his stance.

  Kiren cursed her luck as they tried the handle out of impatience and found it unlocked. She retreated from the window, padding over the floorboards, aware of every light squeak beneath her feet. She inched to the room’s door and eased it shut, listening to the two men bumble around on the lower level.

  “Something smells good, eh, Harv?”

  Kiren’s heart seized. She felt her throat constrict.

  “Don’t touch that, Roy. We don’t know if she’s here or not,” Harvey said, his voice muffled from the walls separating them.

  Despite the room being so cold that her breath curled before her face, she felt her cheeks warm. She couldn’t believe that they had been sent to find her. How had Callum known that she had run away, or where to find her?