by Scott Moore
Nov was not an emotional man. He couldn’t even remember crying at his father’s funeral, but he could barely keep back the tears now. This was it. After tonight, he wouldn’t be doing much else with his life. A trial and a hanging, if they didn’t think of something else to end his miserable life.
The guards at the base of the wall nodded to him. They would pull the elevator up to change shifts, and then lower the guard on the wall down. After that, they would race home to change into their best attire and be off clamoring to get a spot at the party. These two would fail, but they would still try. They would end up at a local bar, drunk and penny-less, but probably still alive.
“Good evening,” Nov greeted them.
Already they were checked out. Earl wasn’t here to get them into shape, and they weren’t going to do it alone.
“You’re the unlucky bastard huh?” one of the men said.
Nov put on a fake smile. “I am.”
A few of the soldiers chuckled. Then one stepped forward and put his hand on Nov’s shoulder.
“I believe I have an extra spot in my party. We are going to get into the ball, Nov. I could probably slip you in with us. No need to watch the damn trees when the party of the century is going on.”
His voice was steady[CF4] and grated on Nov’s nerves. The hardship of the night weighed on Nov more than anything had every weighed on him before and this young soldier had to refrain from pissing himself.
Nov shrugged off the soldier’s hand. Alti was right. Nov reminded himself again. They wouldn’t see it unless they could actually see it.
“I think I will stay on the wall. Better safe than sorry,” Nov said.
The soldiers all laughed again and saluted Nov in a lazy hand movement.
Nov saluted them in return and stepped up onto the elevator platform. The three-minute journey to the top lasted longer than any journey of his entire life. There would be no turning back once he waved goodnight to the man he would relieve. No other person would ever greet him the same again.
Nov’s boots touched the hard stone at the top of the wall, and he shivered, not from the cold but from his nerves crawling up his spine. Cliff jumped out of the shack. Nov noticed his dancing attire. Cliff had a better shot at getting into the ball than the guards down below, but even he would be denied.
He patted Nov on the shoulder. “Can’t believe you got stuck up here.”
Nov shrugged. “I am not much for dancing.”
“Ole Jym is praising your name tonight, Nov. Said it was the best thing that has ever happened to him. Asked his girl to the dance, plans on getting through those doors this time.”
Cliff gave a small nod as if he and Nov knew some secret. Nov only knew one secret, neither of them had a chance at entering the ball. Instead of ruining the night, Nov just smiled in return. It took everything he had not to vomit as his lips spread. He arranged treason, and he smiled as if everything went on as normal.
“Well, Nov, I have to go grab my date. Don’t want to be late.”
Cliff patted Nov again on the shoulder and moved to the platform. He gave the bell three rings, and the elevator jerked into motion. Alone on the wall. There would be no one within ear shot. No other guards at the base. If he wanted to get down, he would have to walk the towering flight of rickety stairs. A long journey even for a fit man, but Nov didn’t plan to move. He had his role.
The woman had met him last night in his rooms. It had been the first time in years a woman had visited his room; since anyone had visited them, actually. Just like the last night he had a woman, it ended with self-doubt and guilt.
The woman had reiterated that Nov need only do the final turn of the wheel. She had promised the entire city wouldn’t fall to its demise. She would save all the people; only a scare tactic, she reminded him.
A scare tactic, Nov laughed at that thought. He was about to be the hammer that shattered his entire life’s work, and it was only a scare tactic. He would hang for a scare tactic. A damned scare tactic!
Nov wished for a moment he had brought the bottle of scotch that the man he had relieved from his duty got him.
Then again, he didn’t want to be known as the bastard drunk of Sera, the asshole who got everyone killed because he soused beyond his limits. Though, a nice long drink would be wonderful. Maybe it would ease his nerves. Take the edge off. Make him braver?
Nov kicked back, putting his feet against the railing. The woman had given him an exact time. It had to be midnight that he opened the gates. Long enough for the party to be in full swing, but early enough that the important folks wouldn’t have left for the night.
That meant Nov had four hours before show time. Four hours to sit alone with his thoughts.
Nov stood, it would do no good to fall into sorrow. Aside from the howling wind he could hear nothing below. So, instead, Nov imagined he could hear the cartwheels. He saw the flickering of small lights down below and imagined good people getting into carts. He imagined children getting in to visit the sweet shops.
The truth probably sat somewhere along the lines of women sneaking from their homes to the homes of married men. Or men sneaking to whore houses, leaving their wives at home alone.
The lights to the manor homes shone bright. Some nobles had much better resources than common oil lamps or torches. The lights that burned there were something different, something Nov didn’t quite understand and never would.
The line of carriages clogged every street Nov could see. Even from this high, he could see the large gatherings walking toward the rich district. A majority would be sent home. They would flood the bars. A profitable night to keep shops open; at least if they sold something to take away disappointment and sorrow.
They didn’t know it yet, but while they wallowed in their self-pity, those who got turned away would be the victors tonight.
Nov stared down at the commotion for a long while. So long that the bell tower shook him from his trance. Nov counted the strikes. When they stopped, he counted nine; which meant only three more hours till he became known as the biggest bastard in Sera.
To those who think to hide, realize this is no game. The one who seeks will always find and your soul is his to take.
24
Miles had no intention of ever seeing Captain Mant again. The young boy hadn’t presented a direct threat to him, but one word of Miles’ betrayal and he would be on the fast track to death. Miles planned to avoid that. He would locate the men and women who could make him vanish and he would be free.
The thought filled him with joy. Something he hadn’t felt much of in months. Not since his last meal as a proposed lord.
A long bang grabbed Miles’ attention. Hundreds of people gathered around stalls, booths, and rugs filled with goods and services. Miles even stopped a moment to watch the dancers. Their exposed midriffs were toned, and Miles let himself imagine for a moment. Then Sammy bumped into him.
“What are you doing?”
Sammy looked just as dumbfounded as he ever did. His eyes were wide like a child finding candy for the first time.
“There are so many people,” Sammy said.
Miles thought about slapping Sammy. Maybe he could knock some sense into him.
“That tends to happen when you enter a city,” Miles said.
Someone else pushed Miles aside. A short man with a long beard grunted as he passed. “Stay off the street when you are gawking!” The man’s accent was thick. Miles assumed a trader from somewhere west. If someone wanted to smuggle or bring in illegal goods, Delvi was their haven.
Miles restrained from drawing his sword and driving it through the man’s chest. He let him pass on. When Miles turned back, the dancers had moved down the way, looking for tips or something more from men with deep pockets. Miles had no money to spare. He would need it all to become someone else.
“Let’s go,” Miles yelled over the growing noise.
Men playing instruments moved onto the path. They drowned out the yells for food
and other wares. Their music elicited a sense of foreboding urgency. Miles turned off the path. He hadn’t been to Delvi before, but the stories were rampant throughout the soldier camps. If someone wanted to find the best services, they had to move toward the biggest buildings. Delvi towered above most other cities in its attempt to reach the sky.
Many organizations built upward in attempts to stand out above the crowd. Over time, so many buildings jutted into the clouds that it became almost impossible to be the biggest building for more than a year’s time.
Miles darted around women and boys being led on leashes. They weren’t his problem. If he stayed to help anyone, he would be the one on a leash. Miles had to reach back and pull Sammy along. Sammy drew close to the end of Miles’ patience. He could just leave him here and let Sammy fend for himself. Sammy didn’t put up any resistance to Miles’ tug.
Miles dodged a group of men who played at being guards. He wanted to take no chances at being noticed. Mant may not have heard about his treachery, but someone in the city would have.
***
Sammy felt like he floated through the streets. Miles pulled him along without stopping to see everything. There was so much to take in, Sammy didn’t know where to start. Miles pretended not to be interested in anything, but there could be no way that his mind didn’t wonder.
Sammy reached out, stroking the hair of a strange looking man. When he turned, the colorless eyes seemed to penetrate right through Sammy. Miles yelled at him, but Sammy didn’t have a clue what he said over the noise.
They turned another corner and came upon a set of golden lined stairs. Sammy didn’t get time to inspect them. Miles pulled him up without stopping.
“Just at the top and then we can be gone from this place. We can go where no one will ever find us.”
Miles talked, but Sammy couldn’t be sure if he talked to him. No one would be looking for Sammy, would they? He didn’t know anyone. Maybe Miles talked about the angry men and women from the village. Somehow Sammy doubted that though. Still, he didn’t ask Miles. Miles rushed and plowed through everything, too busy to answer questions. Sammy busied himself trying to gather everything in before it flashed away.
Sammy drew in all the colors surrounding them. The buildings jutted high into the air and that drew his eyes, but the brightness of their material made him pause. This time Miles didn’t pull him.
***
A black tipped spear pressed into Miles’ chest. He could have fought the guard, but he needed the people inside to accept him, not attempt to kill him.
“I am looking for someone,” Miles said.
The guard nodded. “Everyone here is looking for something.” The guard didn’t move the spear tip. “Be more specific.”
Miles wondered the proper procedure to asking for the men behind the vivid yellow doors. Wrong words were just as likely to start a fight as drawing his sword.
“Rumor has it that the people inside this building can help others disappear.”
The guard cracked a smile. “I can do that with a flick of my wrist if you desire it.”
Miles fought the instinct to reach for his sword. He drew in a deep breath.
“To become someone else,” Miles rephrased.
“What makes you think that anyone would want to do that for you?”
Miles ran his tongue over his lips. The air in Delvi provided no moisture or his nerves were getting the best of him.
“I have payment available to any who are interested.”
The guard didn’t lower the spear, but he drew it back. “You are talking my language now. What are you looking for exactly?”
Miles reached into his pocket and grabbed a coin. There weren’t many left to his possession, but he hoped he could bluff his way through this process. He wrapped his fingers around the silver metal and pulled it out.
“You help me, and I will help you,” Miles said, uncurling his fingers.
A guard made a tenth of a silver in a month. It took almost a year to gain a full silver. Even in Delvi this would be considered a grand sum of money.
The spear dropped to the ground. The man reached behind him without turning and pounded on the door four times. On the fourth knock, the door swung open and two more guards presented themselves.
Miles handed the first guard the silver coin, and he stepped aside allowing Miles and Sammy to be greeted by the second set of guards. These guards said nothing, but their movements told Miles to follow.
***
The fear coming off Miles tainted the air. Not the kind of fear he experienced during the monster attacks, but a new form of fear. Sammy could tell it by the slump of Miles’ shoulders and the way his head swiveled back and forth.
Sammy wondered why Miles was so interested in this place. Outside the walls, the streets were filled with amazing things. In here he saw nothing but dark walls and floors. Even the guards were uninteresting with their dull uniforms and their refusal to talk.
“What are we doing here?” Sammy asked.
Miles grunted his reply.
The guards led them into a high-ceilinged room. The colors of outside spilled all over the ceiling here. Scenes of death and destruction covered every inch of the room.
“Stay here,” one guard said.
The other stayed with them as the guard moved into another room.
“What is all of this?” Sammy asked.
Miles didn’t answer, and the guard pretended that he didn’t hear. Sammy wondered off to the side. The grooves in the paintings made some of the graphic scenes almost feel alive.
“Get back over here,” Miles yelled.
Sammy moved toward him just as the doors opened.
***
“Miles Tiro,” a man with an overly grinning face said, stepping into the room.
The guard followed him back into the room and resumed a stance next to his companion.
“How do you know my name?” Miles asked.
“I know everyone’s name.” The man motioned to a chair. “It is our job to know names, change names, and make new names. Don’t be alarmed. I won’t be sending for the king just yet.”
The smile lazily sat on the man’s face. Miles understood the veiled threat. Mant may not know what Miles had done, but this man knew everything. Miles flicked his eyes to the two guards. They weren’t moving, which meant the man hadn’t tired of playing with them yet.
“Quit worrying,” the man said, sitting down onto the ground.
With his legs crossed he almost reminded Miles of a child. Miles would be stupid to believe he could outwit him like a child though. This man hadn’t gotten to where he was by being an idiot.
“What is it you think I can do for you, Miles?”
Miles drew in a deep breath through his nostrils. “It is my hope that I didn’t travel all this way for nothing.”
The man laughed. “I like the spunk. Attitude often gets a man killed when he is asking for a favor.”
Miles bit his lip. There would be no negotiation if Miles didn’t at least show some respect.
“I need an out. You know what I am running from. Can you achieve something so grand?”
The laugh echoed from the walls. One of the most eerie sounds Miles had heard, and when Miles looked at the scenes of death and battle it made it even worse.
“I have done this for an entire lifetime. This is my world you have stepped into. I play by my own rules and no kings, queens, or gods rule me here.” The man drummed his fingers along the inside of his thighs. “Where do you want to go, Miles? I can take you anywhere.”
Miles fingered the remaining gold coins in his pocket. The last money he would ever use in this kingdom. The last vestige of his hopes and dreams. He pulled one of them out and flipped it to the sitting man.
“I need to be far away, and I need to never be found.”
The man looked over the coin and with a slight movement of his hand the coin disappeared.
“It will be like you never existed.”
25
Dressing up with frills and silk was never her thing, not surprising having grown up with the gremory[CF5], or as the people of Sera called them, the Groundborn.
Alti pushed her body further into the corner. She had to sneak into the room by using what little help she could from the shadows and her power to bend light around her. She wished for a moment she had the same strength as her brother. Here in Sera though, it seemed as if no one watched for anything but the prettiest dress so it mattered little.
Nov had told her that the city had fallen far from the time of the Groundborn wars. He told her they cared more about their place in power than their place in the world. If that continued, it wouldn’t be long before her father took the city. Even with this all going according to plan, he would still likely win.
Alti poked her head out again. The room filled up, but she could see where the factions split. The single women congregated near the dais of the group Nov had called the Lady Duchesses. Alti supposed that the women in the seats would decide in time who to marry the women off to. Women here were treated like prizes, it sickened Alti, but she couldn’t change that tonight.
Tonight, she had to keep them all from dying a horrible death. She had to keep the bodies warm and moving. She had promised Nov. Alti moved to the side. She spotted a man halfway up the dais, the only man wearing a sword, and she almost thought he was scanning the room for something. She moved to the other side of the pillar. If she were caught, she would be thrown out into the streets. If she were caught everyone in here would die. She moved a few pillars down.
Tonight, she would awaken the soft city of Sera. She would remind them that the only way to survive would be to temper their steel. A shame that only a few remembered that here. One of them, she used for the most crucial part of the plan. She only hoped it didn’t destroy him.
Alti heard the music start, but only a few danced. Mostly younger women and men, entertainment to the older couples. Most people stood around trying to impose an image of importance.
