The woman did not seem to notice she was being scrutinized and found wanting; she only stuck out a distracted hand to Tellie and Tryss with a cheery, “Hello girls!” while never peeling her fascinated focus from Errance.
“Well, sir,” she said, the ‘z’ sound sharper than ever. “If you are the leader of this unusual party, I must ask your name.”
Ever so slightly shaking his head, Errance continued to back away.
Tryss spoke instead, eyes flashing in suspicion and voice cross. “I don’t really see what business it is of yours.”
Zizain drew her hand to her cheek, looking abashed. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear, you must think I’m very forward and presumptuous. Is this your husband?”
“NO!” Errance said, drowning out Tryss’s denial.
With a grin, Zizain said, “My mistake. Is it correct for me to assume that these two children are not yours, then? You look too young for either of them, but I have been wrong before.”
“No!” Tryss exclaimed, turning brilliant red. “No, we’re not related at all.”
“And yet traveling together? So it’s not so strange for me to want to unravel the mystery after all, is it?”
Silence answered her, or at least as much silence as could be found in the raucous street. Errance looked trapped, the children both wore the expressions of thinking very hard without any answers, and Tryss was simply stiff.
“Excuse us,” the chema said, walking around Zizain, pulling Tellie and Kelm along by the arms.
But as Errance warily stepped by, the strange woman stuck out her foot, caught his ankle, and yanked hard. Reeling forward, Errance caught himself against a crate, but in the brief moment his head was near her level, Zizain reached out and lifted his hair from his ear, revealing its pointed tip.
Errance slapped her hand away, scrambling backwards with a strangled gasp.
Zizain stepped out of range, a knowing smile curving her lush lips. “Well. That explains a lot, does it not?”
With a sharp intake of air, the prince stepped towards her. Tryss stepped after him, hand reaching, though it was apparent she had no idea what he was about to do or how she was supposed to stop him or even if she should.
But in that instant, a loose donkey crashed into a booth behind them, arousing shouts and curses. The commotion distracted them all for one moment, and when they’d turned back, Zizain was nowhere in sight.
“We must get out of the open,” Errance said, voice low.
“Yes,” Tryss agreed. “Yes, I think that’s a very good idea.” She grabbed Tellie and Kelm’s arms and hurried after Errance who cut through the crowd like a pike through a shoal of fish.
Tellie craned her neck around in hopes of glimpsing the mysterious Zizain. “What did she mean by ‘that explains a lot’?”
“It means we’ve been noticed,” Tryss said grimly. “She might be working for the people we’re fleeing. Even if she’s not, she might spread the word that an elf is around. Which I imagine it is very unusual for an elf to be here.”
“But she did help me,” Kelm reminded. “I’d been caught for touching something, and she stopped the man from arresting me.”
“Saved the little thief, yes, she definitely deserves a medal,” Errance bit in return.
They squeezed between shoulders, keeping their heads low. For the moment, any destination seemed unsafe, the wharf, an inn, the other gate. Nothing could promise shelter, so they simply pushed on and on, darting to the gutter when carriages rolled past.
Tellie wiped sweat from her brow, trying to calm her racing pulse. This whole city was a bad dream, no matter its pretty plumage.
Her eyes lit on a group of grey-clad men roughly pushing their way through entertainers and flinched at how similar they were to Daran’s men.
So very similar…
She gasped and spun around, snatching at Errance’s arm. “Stop, stop,” she whispered frantically. “Turn around, go the other way. It’s Daran! It’s the men who kidnapped me and Kelm!”
One bolt of devastation flashed in Errance’s eyes, a jagged streak of lightning. It vanished as quickly as it came, and Tellie found herself staring into the perilous face of the Prisoner. He turned with her tug and dropped to one knee in the shadow of a merchant stall, bending over his boot as if something bothered his foot.
“Something in your shoe?” Kelm teased, as he and Tryss paused alongside them.
Tellie shook her head. “No, it’s Daran, Kelm, they’re just up the street. I swear it’s them!”
“Oh, saints.” The boy turned deathly pale and he ducked into the shade with her.
“Who?” Tryss asked.
“The men who captured us.”
Tryss breathed in and closed her eyes. “All right. No one panic.” She reached out and took Tellie’s hand. “We’ll simply go another way. It’s not like they know we’re here.” Looping her other arm around Kelm’s elbow, she led the way to another street they’d passed a few minutes back. It was narrower than the main road, but still packed with sellers and buyers.
The sedate pace Tryss set maddened Tellie—her heart bounded several strides ahead. But it would do no good to look hunted. No, she must smile and look as if she was enjoying a stroll on the streets with her friends. Pretend there was no possibility they were already being followed. Sharp aches stabbed through her stomach as she recalled the fear in the presence of those evil men. Not that she had ever been paid much attention to. But what did it matter if Daran noticed her or not? She was inexplicably entangled in his purpose, and if he succeeded, all her dreams would unravel. She began to look over her shoulder, but Tryss halted her with a sharp hiss.
“I will look back,” the chema said. “They do not know me.” She looked, then faintly smiled. “They did not come down the same road.”
Tellie exhaled, fear receding. So they had not been spotted, and it was such a very busy city that they surely wouldn’t run into each other again. Daran may not have even been here to look for them. After all, how would the Darkness have known where they would go?
Errance stopped. “They are ahead of us.”
At a crossway just before them, two of Daran’s men lounged against a wall, chatting to each other and smoking on pipes.
Tellie stared in frozen dismay before Tryss nearly jerked her off her feet as the four of them hurried into a narrow alley between two market houses. The damp chill in the brief shade was a welcome relief from the scorching sun and their predator’s searching eyes.
But as they came back out onto a bustling road, Tellie’s quick eyes spotted Daran and his men again, this time in this new street and much closer. She grabbed Errance’s arm and pointed.
He muttered a curse under his breath, ducked his head, and kept striding forward all the way across the street and into another alley on the opposite side. Every muscle in her body ached to run after him, but as her arm was still severely locked in Tryss’s elbow, she had to match the chema’s prim pace as she and Kelm were led across the street.
The alley did not lead to another public road, but to the backways of the markets where crates and garbage piled in stacks and heaps between the close fitting buildings. The stench burned the nostrils, fouled every breath, was heard in the buzz of thousands of flies.
They paused, panting and glancing around uncertainly. “We need to reach the docks,” Tryss said. “Where…wherever they are.”
“At the sea, probably,” a familiar voice drawled.
They all whirled around to see Zizain perched atop a barrel not ten paces away, eating an arched, yellow fruit. Her golden-brown eyes danced as she smiled at them. “Are you in some sort of trouble, lovelies?”
Without any kind of acknowledgement, Errance turned and hurried away further down the alleys. Tryss glanced back and forth and then headed after him, tugging the children along despite their curious stares at the mysterious woman.
“If you’re looking for the docks, I can show you the way,” Zizain called.
“No, thank y
ou,” Tryss replied politely.
Sighing, Tellie looked away from the beautiful stranger and back onto the road ahead—just as Daran stepped into the street before them.
She screamed.
She clapped her hands over her mouth, horrified at the sound, horrified at him, horrified at everything.
Daran’s head snapped towards them.
17
oOo
My heart plummets. There the man stands, an emissary of doom, and his eyes possess the promise of reckoning for my flight. But he is merely a man. A mortal vessel. And those easily die.
For one splinter of eternity, Daran stared at them. Or rather he stared at Errance, the nearest to him, though still an alley’s length away. Disbelief flared in his eyes, and then his brows hunkered low, and his mouth stretched wide to shout.
But Tryss shouted instead. “Run!”
And Errance did run.
Straight towards Daran.
The man took a staggering step back, alarm rushing across his face, but he drew his weapon and prepared for the attack. Just moments before Errance reached him, two of Daran’s men stepped into the alley.
“Errance, come back!” Tellie shrieked, yanking against Tryss’s hand.
But he was already upon Daran, ducking under the first sword swing. He caught the outside of the man’s elbow in the second strike and dragged him around in a spin, then threw him towards the oncoming attackers. Then he did turn and run as two more of the dark men appeared from the side street.
Kelm took the lead as they fled, skidding to the left and crawling over a tall wooden fence between two buildings. Galvanized by terror, Tellie went up after, not even sure how she managed to scale it. Shouts echoed behind them, the voices seeming to roar from each and every alley and crevice like a monster’s mouth. Their hearts hammered in time with their footsteps, drumming out the deadly beat of doom.
They broke out of the alley, returning into the lively bustle of the market. The shouts of their pursuers drowned under the squall of the vendors. Lights and colors burst through their vision before they returned to the shadows and dampness of the alleys beyond. Wooden slates crossed the narrow openings between the buildings above them, causing the walls to seem even closer together.
For a moment they paused, taking refuge in the hope their followers had lost their trail.
“Everyone still here?” Errance asked.
“Still here,” Tryss gasped in answer for them all.
“I’m here too!” Zizain chimed.
Tellie shrieked again, and this time it was Kelm who covered her mouth. She closed her eyes in frustration, vowing every curse and chain on her ready tongue. If the others blamed her for all their troubles, she would not be surprised.
But the others had no attention to spend on her. They stared aghast at the strange colorful woman perched upon a stack of broken down crates.
“Are you sure you aren’t in some sort of trouble?”
With a haggard gasp, Errance stepped towards her. Color drained from his skin, darkening every shadow and scar, and his eyes gleamed a lethal green. For all the beauty he possessed, none of it could be seen now. “Where did you come from? What did you tell them?” he hissed.
“Excuse me?” Zizain returned, quirking her brows.
Errance’s hands shot down and gripped her shoulders. He lifted her off the ground and shook her. “WHAT DID YOU TELL THEM?”
The woman dangled in his grasp, hair falling wildly about her face. For just a brief moment, she looked startled. Then she smiled. “I didn’t tell anyone anything. And I followed you across the rooftops. Put me down, please, won’t you darling?”
He dropped her like a stone, and she landed smartly on her feet without a quaver of fear. “You’re a part of this,” he snarled. “You’re a servant of His Darkness. What are you doing, turning the streets around?”
She gave a saucy wink. “While I’m flattered that you think I have such power, no. But I can lead you through this city like the paths are straight.”
Harsh voices rumbled in the distance, too dark and too hungry to belong to anyone save their hunters. And they were coming closer.
“Errance.” Tryss stepped forward with a shiver as if she feared attracting the elf’s wrath herself. “Errance, we need to keep moving.”
With a last murderous look at Zizain, he heeded the threat and took the lead as they fled down the alley.
Tellie looked back at the woman as they ran and saw her staring after them, mouth twisting thoughtfully. But she did not pursue them or leave her place.
On and on they flew, through market street and alley, till Tellie’s head spun so that every color and sight that passed by began to look alike. Yet no matter where they went, their pursuers always seemed just behind. What cruel fate set their hunters as hounds on their trail? It was as if some greater hand set them on paths not their own.
As they turned down yet another small side street, this one bare of travelers, a flicker of grey on the arch above the road caught Tellie’s eye. It could have been a torn canvas or a bird, but she looked anyway. There across the arched bricks, as a shadow under the sun, lay the shard of Daran’s company. Kilkus. A crossbow crooked against its shoulder, and the bolt pointed down towards them, quavering with expectation.
No. Tellie felt her mouth stretched open in a shout but no sound came forth. She felt herself lunging for Errance—
But Errance wasn’t there.
He was diving the other way, reaching for Tryss, because the arrow was pointed at her. And when it shot forth, he was sweeping her behind him.
He was the one falling to his knees, the arrow buried in his middle.
Tryss lay collapsed on the ground from the elf’s hard shove, and her gaze darted from Errance to the attacker above. She knew what it was, the only thing it could possibly be. A shard. Seeing it with her own eyes, she could hardly believe her own kind could turn into such a terrifying monster. This monster which once had been like her, but had betrayed itself, its people, and been cursed to this existence. She found then, quite suddenly, that she wasn’t afraid. She hated it.
She leapt to her feet, knife flashing in hand, and sprang for the wall.
The shard shrieked at her coming, dropping the next bolt before it could reload. It scuttled away like a crab, vanishing across the rooftops.
“Tryss!” Kelm yelled, halting her pursuit. “Help, please, we need help!”
Her heart raced after the shard, but…had Errance been hit? She paused, midway up to the roof, then dropped back down.
Errance lay on the ground. She expected him to rise, no matter the pain, for if there was one thing she knew of him, he was an overcomer. But he was not moving. He could not be dead. The shard would not have shot to kill him, not if he was so important. But then, the shard had not been aiming at him. Her heart plummeted and she raced to his side, turning him over. The stone bolt was buried in his stomach. His eyes stared ahead, unseeing, unblinking. But there was still a pulse in his throat.
“Come on, Kelm,” she said with the barest quaver. “Help me carry him. Arms over the shoulders, that’s right.”
“They’re going to catch us,” Kelm said. “There’s no way we can run like this.”
“There.” Tellie’s fragile voice drifted like mist through the hot air. She stood listlessly a few steps away, face salt-white. She was in shock, Tryss noticed in brief pity, unable to move or help and completely aware and miserable of that. But the girl was pointing beyond them and down the street. Tryss followed the direction to a wooden door in a corner of the turn in the road.
“Well done, Tellie,” Tryss gasped, pushing to her feet with great difficulty under the elf’s weight. “Hide.”
The door was rotting and unlocked so it gave no trouble, and the shade of the little room inside swept over them like water. The room seemed to be a shed, housing nothing but a few boxes of tools, and when Tellie stepped inside, Tryss tried to ease Errance slowly into her arms. If that bolt was jostled,
it could do more damage, but if she pulled it out now, it would only make things worse.
“They’re going to find us,” Kelm growled.
Tryss shook her head. “No. You two stay here, I’ll lead them away.” A scowl twisted her face at the hint of oncoming protest. “Get inside now!”
She slammed the door behind them.
Shafts of golden light slipped through the cracks of the door, cutting apart the darkness. The two children listened to the sound of Tryss scrambling away, and then there was silence, save for their own wheezing breaths.
“This won’t work,” Kelm muttered. “We need somewhere we can really hide. We need someone who knows the city.”
Tellie couldn’t respond. She could barely think, only act, and even then in very small extremes. Except for those shafts of light, everything was pitch black. Her fingers found Errance’s sweaty skin, then his shirt, then the bolt sticking out of his back. She curled her hands with a shudder.
The door creaked open, and she looked up to see Kelm slipping out. “What are you doing?” she gasped.
“We’ll be caught like rats in a trap if someone doesn’t help us,” he said. “You stay here.”
Before she could protest more, he was gone. Shivering, she scooted Errance’s shoulders up on her knees, his head in her lap. When she pressed her fingers against his throat, she could feel his pulse fluttering. Yet somehow, even with his too warm body against her, she felt completely alone. It was like he wasn’t even there.
Hot and cold pulsed through Kelm’s blood. His breath rattled and his footsteps pounded in his ears as he tore through the streets.
Each face he saw began to blur into the same for he only needed one face and it would be different than all the rest. Where was she? He expected that strange woman to appear again any moment, just like she’d been doing before. But perhaps Errance had well and truly scared her off.
Yes, there was a chance she was trouble. Yes, Errance wasn’t willing to trust her. But by the stars, Errance didn’t know everything. They were in mortal danger in a foreign city, and any help was better than no help at all.
Moonscript (Kings of Aselvia Book 1) Page 20