by Aaron Bunce
No! Julian shouted into his mind, but the Nym’s response was immediate, and strong. It wasn’t a word, just an emotion. Julian felt the creature compel him to trust.
His body came alive. Muscles started to swell and his skin softened. The dagger slid out slowly, pushed free of his body as the muscles knitted back together. The ache in his joints dissipated, and the hunger, which had dogged his every waking breath since entering the mountains, was gone.
Julian staggered and steadied himself against the table. His foot struck some metal. He looked down to see what it was, and caught sight of a forged chest plate, just like the one he used to wear.
He leaned over and picked up the armor. Clumps of brown air drifted down, landing on the tarnished metal. Julian picked it up and held it up to the light. It was his hair.
* * * *
“Julian is the reason why we’re in this mess,” Banner, one of the archers, hissed. His counterpart, Tristan, a slightly taller young man with long sandy blond hair, wrapped an arm around Banner’s shoulder and pulled him back.
“We each decided, Banner. He didn’t force a one of us. Or did you forget?” Nirnan said calmly, his arms crossed over his chest.
Banner grumbled, but offered no rebuttal. Tanea watched the five men, trapped somewhere between confusion and pure frustration.
“It’s all for nothing if someone finds us all standing around, flapping our lips,” Tristan, the other archer, said. He leaned back and checked to make sure the hallway was still clear.
“I don’t understand. If you were assigned to be out there, why are you all in trouble?” Tanea asked, watching Gaston stare absently at his feet. He was battered and haggard looking, both of his eyes blackened.
Why seek him out, Julian? Can he keep me safe, or does he know how to find you? She thought.
“We were at the line. T’was Julian that held us together, but then…well, I don’t know how else to put it. You showed up,” Nirnan said.
“Me?” Tanea asked.
Nirnan nodded. “Out of the darkness. T’was a strange sight watching you walk into camp. You begged Ama’lik to run off with you, too. That was when those foul beasts attacked. We stood our ground and fought the wretched beasts off. But there was a man with ‘em. He wore a mask and fought with the strength and speed of ten men. He grabbed you and spirited you away. Well, what we thought was you, anyways.”
“I never,” Tanea stammered, completely perplexed by the story. She only ever left the Chapterhouse on the rarest occasion. She couldn’t remember the last time she had cause to leave the city, let alone at night, under the threat of attack.
“T’was the reason Julian dragged all of us up the mountain…to find you!” Banner said, stepping into the conversation.
“But we didn’t find her…well, you. We found him,” Tristan said, pointing towards the solemn figure sitting just outside their circle. “Julian sent us back here, with the smith’s bastard, while he went looking for you.”
“Ee got a name,” Gaston said loudly, his broad shoulders tensing under his shirt.
“Apologies,” Tristan said, giving a mock bow.
Gaston was on his feet and halfway to the archer before Tanea could blink, his fists clenched at his sides.
“Wow!” Nirnan growled, coming between them, “things are complicated enough without you two adding insult to the soup.” He cast Tristan a dark look.
“Sure, take the half-blood’s side. He’s part of the reason we’re in this mess,” Tristan growled back, pushing past Banner and moving away.
Nirnan turned to Tanea, a strained look pulling his mouth into a scowl. “In truth, we’re stuck here, confined to the keep while we wait for an official tribunal. Jiqou, our commander, tried to explain it away. He said that he gave the command for us to go up the mountain, but a group of men complained, and now the magistrate is involved. They claim that Julian and Sky deserted their duty, abandoned their post outside the city and were one with the enemy. We tried to tell ‘em the truth of the matter, but they weren’t for listening. None of it. The man in the mask, the camp. Damn fools!”
“They’ll strip us of our positions, and any honor we have left, if we’re lucky. If we’re not, then they lock us in a cell, or ship us all off to the Council’s mine,” Asofel, a young man with dark, mousy hair and a thin nose, said.
“Jiqou argues in our favor,” Banner said hopefully.
“We can’t help all that now. It’s in other men’s hands. What about you? Why are you here now? Why are you looking for Gaston,” Nirnan asked, but cut back in before Tanea could respond. “And how did you know he was here?”
Tanea met the big man’s gaze. His eyes were a soft brown, and gentle. With his substantial height and strong frame they seemed oddly out of place. She had thought him much older at first glance, but realized now that he was closer to her own age, if not younger still.
She had to decide quickly how much of her story to tell. How much of it would they believe? And if they did, could they even help her? She decided it best to leave nothing out. What did she have to lose after all? Her own elder priest was trying to kill her, and the young man who saved her was likely dead already.
“I met Julian after the first attack on the city. I tended his wounds in the courtyard, and later at the Chapterhouse. We formed a…connection, a bond through my healing magic. We met in secret for a short time after, but then he was sent outside the city with the rest of you. I haven’t seen or heard from him sense. Every once in a while I will feel him…perhaps glimpse him in a vision. He is still alive, out there, somewhere,” Tanea said quickly.
“A bond?” Banner echoed.
She looked around the group, trying to decipher their expressions. Nirnan took a deep breath and moved to talk, but it was the half-blood, Gaston, who spoke first.
“Ee could see it in his eyes when he pressed me about ya. Gunta knows, something was driving him towards ya. I don’t know what bond ye speak of, but it must be a strong one,” he said.
“You can feel Julian?” Nirnan asked, quietly.
Tanea nodded.
“It must be that masked bastard. Maybe he’s holding up in the mountains somewhere and is looking to leverage Julian for gold,” Tristan said.
“If he is, what is he waiting for? Hasn’t been an attack on the city in some time,” Nirnan posed to no one in general, but then turned to Tanea. “What of Sky? Can you feel anything of him?”
Tanea shook her head and felt a pang grip her inside as the big man’s face fell a bit.
“Why now? You never said how you know about Gaston,” Banner said, breaking the brief silence.
Tanea cleared her throat, suddenly feeling very alone and isolated, despite the group surrounding her. She couldn’t lie to them, not now. She owed El’bryliz everything.
“I approached my elder priest and told him about Julian. But more than that, I told him about the bond we share. He tried to kill me,” Tanea said bluntly.
The small group stood quietly, their eyes going wide. Gaston whistled quietly, letting out a deep breath.
“Kill you? You mean he actually tried to kill you? How did you get away?” Tristan scoffed.
Tanea nodded, instantly growing uncomfortable under the group’s stares. She leaned back against the cold wall of the massive keep. She felt a vibration in the stone, just like the one in the Chapterhouse floor. It was subtle, but undeniable. But a heartbeat later, a heavy tremor jolted the stone, as if someone standing next to her struck it with a hammer.
“El’bryliz came to my aid and fought against Father Pallum. He helped me sneak out of the Chapterhouse, but didn’t make it out. He caught El when we were climbing the wall. I am an orphan. I have nowhere to go, no one to ask for help. I ducked into an alley and focused all of my energy into the bond with Julian. I felt him, and saw him. He passed one bit of information along to me. Your name,” Tanea said, meeting Gaston’s gaze.
“You need us to help your friend, and find Julian?” Tristan rationali
zed. The rest of the group looked to him, but she could tell that they had all come to the same conclusion.
“We can’t help anyone. Sixth arm, we can’t even help ourselves. We’re banned from the city. We’re only allowed in the practice yard, the dining hall, and our barracks room. They won’t issue us weapons, and any day now they’ll likely slap us in chains,” Banner said hollowly.
Tanea looked to Nirnan, and the smaller man with mousy hair, the one they called Asofel, but neither spoke. Her chest tightened as desperation set in. Another jolt passed through the stone behind her, this one much stronger. She looked around, but no else seemed to notice.
“I understand,” Tanea said and pushed off from the wall, breaking from the small group.
“Gunta, wait! I’ll help ye,” Gaston said, coming forward and pulling her back by the arm. “Yer man struck me from chains. Ee wouldn’t rightly be serving the mercy he showed me if ee didn’t help you now.”
“Thank you, oh thank you!” Tanea said, breaking from his grip and throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. The emotions broke open inside her, and before she could stop herself, she was crying.
“Hey, who’s back there?” Someone yelled, their voice echoing from around the corner.
Tanea broke from Gaston, but it was Nirnan who acted first. The big man grasped her by both arms and pulled her behind him, smashing her body between his own and the cold wall.
“Why are you skulking about? You lot aren’t supposed to be back here!” a man said. His voice carried an angry, harsh tone.
“Apologies!” Nirnan said, turning, shielding her from the man as he came around the corner. “We were just in the yard for a bit of training and popped back here when the wind turned.”
“Jiqou’s instructions are clear! You are confined to barracks, unless escorted to the yard for exercise or the hall for meals!” the man said, his voice rising even higher.
“Again, apologies,” Nirnan said smoothly, “like I said, we were just out for a bit of time in the yard. I’m not sure where our escort went.”
“Clear out! Back to the barracks with you,” the man said.
Tanea flinched when Nirnan started to move, but the big man reached back and pulled her forward, keeping her in his shadow. He flicked his head at Gaston, motioning for him to fall into step behind them.
“Easy big brother, we’re coming,” Tanea heard Banner say.
“Don’t call me that!” the guard snapped.
A tremor shook the ground below her. Nirnan tensed up, a hiccup marring his step. He noticed it too.
“The commander will not be pleased when he hears of this. Hiding around corners, skulking. This is not behavior befitting men of the Silver. I pray this removes you lot from his favor, for good,” the soldier said, continuing to berate them.
“Gunta, rest yer mouth. There’s something talking to me through the rock, but ee can’t hear it over that one’s blasted mouth,” Gaston cursed quietly behind her.
“Wait. You can feel it, the vibrations in the ground?” Tanea whispered over her shoulder.
“Aye. I have fer some time. I can hear it, and feel it. Like the stone is trying to talk to me, but ee can’t figure out what it’s trying to say.”
Tanea huddled in close behind Nirnan, her right hand hooked in the big man’s belt. They passed through the first gate and entered the training ground. Weaving between snow-covered blocks of straw, Tanea wavered.
Where am I to go? Do I follow them, and tell their commander my story? Will they listen, or believe me? Will they send me back to Father Pallum? Tanea wondered desperately, but her frantic thoughts were interrupted by another significant tremor in the ground. This one was so strong it shook snow loose from the hedges ahead of them.
“Did you feel that? What is that?” Nirnan asked.
“Silence! Enough out of you,” the soldier yelled.
How can he not feel it?
They passed through the second gate, leaving the training ground behind.
“Stay close. Stay low,” Gaston growled behind her.
“Wha…” Tanea started to whisper back, but the ground shook violently beneath her. Nirnan wavered and went down, Tanea’s hand still hooked inside his belt.
“Up, girl,” Gaston growled, hooking his large, strong hands under her arms and wrenching her easily off the ground.
Another massive tremor hit, this time followed by an ear splitting crack, and the thunderous crash of tumbling stone. A blinding wave of dust, debris, and snow crashed over them.
Tanea held onto Gaston, but doubled over. The dust choked her, burning her eyes, nose, and mouth. She coughed and coughed, gagging on the grit and almost threw up.
Gaston wrenched her forward, dragging her along as she stumbled and fell to a knee. She couldn’t see where she was going, and couldn’t keep her feet beneath her, but that didn’t stop him.
She gulped down several breaths of clean air before she even realized that she was clear. Her face was soaked with tears but she could still feel the grit in her eyes every time she blinked.
“Climb girl,” Gaston growled.
Tanea lumbered forward and pulled herself over a waist-high chunk of upturned stone, and then another. Nirnan was behind her, climbing and wheezing. There were others around her, but she couldn’t see clearly enough to identify them.
Up and over a rock, and then another, until it leveled out above her and she could stand. Gaston stood next to her, his hand wrapped reassuringly around her upper arm. Tanea wiped her eyes on her tunic and continued to blink, until her vision finally cleared.
It took her a moment to orient herself. But then she turned and saw the keep. The structure had been torn open, one whole side of the fortress ripped wide. An entire portion of the curtain wall had collapsed, reduced to the pile of rubble under her feet.
“Sixth arm!” Nirnan breathed, climbing over the last stone and standing next to her, “What could have…?”
The big man went silent as another loud crack split the air. Just beyond the crumbled portion of the wall, in a lane between shops, the cobblestones fractured and fell away. Dust and rock erupted into the air.
“Mani help us,” Tanea breathed as dark figures emerged from the dust, scattering in all directions.
Chapter 33
Stand or run
Brother Dalman watched in horror as the councilmen bent and contorted, their bodies breaking in on themselves. He couldn’t bear their strangled cries of pain, or the impossibly loud snapping noises of cracking bones. He couldn’t bring himself to look away either. The councilmen’s bodies were hooked together, snared like some macabre bramble.
It felt like a nightmare. How could it be real? There was a young woman with wings, a murderous little man in a mask, and a gruesome, white-skinned monster. He wanted to, no, needed to turn and run, but couldn’t unlock his fingers from around the curtain.
Sweat dripped down his forehead and into his eyes, burning and stinging. He tried to blink it away, but it was no use. He was old enough to recognize Djaron Algast, although he was a much younger man the last time he saw the king’s face.
He looks just as I remember? How can that be? He thought, his confusion mounting.
Gladeus stumbled towards the deposed king, his movements stiff and unnatural. Djaron spoke in an angry whisper, his face scrunched up and his eyes narrowed. Brother Dalman couldn’t follow the conversation, but picked out the word “sister”, easily enough.
Gladeus’ back hunched and he gasped. A voice tore into the back of Brother Dalman’s thoughts, urging him to turn and run, but something held him there, preventing him from leaving.
Run you fool! If you stay, you will die! He thought, finally managing to pry his sweaty fingers off the curtain.
Bones snapped, the sharp crack filling the air below. The monk crouched down and tried to crawl out from behind the curtain, but his legs had gone weak. In fact, every part of his body was shaking. He couldn’t remember ever being so overcome by fear.
“The rulers of this land are no more!” Brother Dalman heard the winged girl say loudly.
A host of whispers responded. It sounded like the room below was filled with snakes.
“Not long ago we were damned to the darkness. But one person heard our cries for help. He didn’t just help us rise, but through him, we have been reborn,” the green-eyed girl said. “I promised a great many things in those early hours, vengeance, position, and your family. Today, I start fulfilling those promises.”
Brother Dalman was halfway through the door, but froze and turned back. He crept back and peered over the railing. Two of the armor-clad soldiers hefted the tangled bodies of the Councilmen aloft and carried them onto the dais. The girl grasped Gladeus’s large, gilded chair and cast it away, where it smashed against a column. The two soldiers set the Councilmen’s bodies in its place.
“Vengeance, and now, a seat with which to remember your return,” she said, sweeping her hands at the macabre sight.
Djaron mounted the dais, his long strides closing the distance in but a few steps. He reached up and tucked his long brown hair behind his ear, before settling down onto the twisted bodies of his rivals.
“A throne,” Brother Dalman whispered, realizing the grotesque purpose of the dead councilmen’s bodies.
“A worthy gift,” Djaron said, returning the young woman’s gaze, but Brother Dalman could see a hint of something on his face. He didn’t look entirely comfortable seated on the mangled bodies.
“We will sweep across this land and bring it back under proper and natural rule, but first, seal the city, every gate and every passageway. None in, and none out,” the young woman said, her eyes sparkling like emeralds in the firelight.
Brother Dalman pulled his head down in a panic as her gaze drifted upwards, towards the balcony.
