by David Bokman
“End of the road, buddy.” The older of the two guards standing in front of him stepped forward. The guard prepared to strike, but this time Cad did not have his broadsword to defend himself with. This time, he had nothing. The guard’s strike was almost elementary, like an afterthought. When the blade was a few inches away from making contact, Cadwell, to his disappointment, closed his eyes, preparing for what was to come. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. He waited half a heartbeat, and then the strike came. It did not sound like metal hitting flesh, though.
It sounded like metal hitting ice.
Cad opened his eyes again, and saw Mae’s blade of Undying Ice, with his left hand gripped around it. It had parried the guard’s longsword, which was now quickly freezing. Saved by witchcraft? Cad and the guard both stopped, trying to come to grips with what had just happened. Even though Cadwell had never been a proficient fighter with his left arm, he felt more competent now than he had ever done with his broadsword. He forced the guardsman back and, reinvigorated, slashed at him. The icy blade struck the chestplate, leaving the guard screaming in pain from the cold. The other guards flinched back in surprise and fear.
“He’s an arcanist!” someone shouted.
“Come on, finish him!” someone else replied.
The guard closest to Cadwell tried an attack, but with far less conviction than before. Cad easily parried, sending shivers through the entire body of the attacker. Another guard approached, carefully. Cadwell, spurred on by the sword, quickly dealt with him. A third guard approached. This time, long before the guard had a chance to strike, Cad threw the icy blade at him, and it found its way between the armor, the sword’s cold edge appearing on the other side of the guard, piercing through him.
Reaching down, Cad grabbed his broadsword with his left hand, but somehow it did not feel too heavy. He took another step back, and another guard approached. The guard’s eyes were focused on the broadsword, so Cad went low, kicking the man’s legs down from under him. The sword of Undying Ice, spurred on by the battle, somehow dislodged itself from the body of the guard it was buried into. Levitating in the air, it defied all laws of nature, yet Cad’s eyes were not deceiving him. The sword spotted another guard approaching Cad, and lunged itself toward the attacker, striking his longsword. The guard, taken aback, let out a whimper before dropping his sword. The icy blade took no prisoners.
The alley was by now littered with unconscious and dead bodies of the Townsguard, yet it did not stop their approach. Two more guards approached. One met his end by Cad’s broadsword, the other was relentlessly attacked by the ice sword until his blade shattered. The next guard approached, and Cad prepared to attack. Before he did, though, he saw the blade of Undying Ice quickly turn around in the air, focusing on a point behind Cad. What do you see?
Before he had time to turn around, Cad felt a cold shiver run through his back. He lost his breath and fell to his knees. Something had pierced through his spine. A sword? No, too small. Arrow, has to be. He turned his head. He did not need more than a moment to recognize the man standing behind him, bow drawn.
Castor.
“You’d…” Try as he may, Cad could not get the words out of his mouth. There was no air to help him. You’d shoot a man in the back? I shouldn’t be surprised. He finished the sentence in his mind. “You’d shoot…” It was impossible to get more than a short breath of words out, and he felt unimaginable pain running through his entire body each time he tried. Cad looked over at Mae’s sword, only to find it pinned down by several members of the guard. He only had time to look at it for a moment or two before it dissipated into thin air. You’re alone now, old man.
“We meet again!” Castor, accompanied by a few guards, as well as Commander Dovan, approached.
They must have run around the alley, or were they behind me all the time? “You sna…” Every word was like a thousand daggers into Cadwell’s lungs and spine.
“I heard Dovan was taking care of you and had to see for myself. He even gave me the honor of finishing the job, as payback for what you did to me.”
For what I did to you?
“I hear your friends escaped, though. Pity, but I have no doubt Dovan will find them.” Castor and his entourage were now standing only a few feet away from Cadwell, who was surrounded by guards on the other side. Castor pulled out a gruesome, curved dagger from under his cloak. “Now, let’s get this over with. You’ve caused enough trouble for one life.”
Cad took as deep a breath as his body would let him, even though it brought him excruciating pain. Come on, old man, you can manage one sentence. He gritted his teeth, and said, “Tell—”
Castor slashed at Cadwell’s throat with one swift motion. The old Lieutenant fell to the ground, cold.
⧫ CHAPTER XXX ⧫
By the time Mae could feel her blade return to her, they were already on horseback. After leaving Cad they had taken a right turn as soon as they were able, then a left, then a right again, and before they knew it, they were out onto a more populated road heading south. They could see the southern gate not too far away. Not long after making it onto the bigger road, the heralds located a stable which they quickly headed into. Florianna threw the stablehand a pouch containing far too many suns, they grabbed three horses, and were off without a word. Riding as hard as they dared without drawing too much suspicion, they continued southward, and, after a while, Mae felt the icy blade’s presence again. Hopefully it bought us some time, at the very least. That’s all it could ever have hoped to do.
The southern gate had a sizable guard presence, but not too sizable. “Let’s slow down for a while, and then pick up the pace when we’re close,” Mae told the others. “On my mark, we ride like hell and hope they don’t shoot the horses down.”
“That’s never going to work!” said Sam.
“I have a better idea. Do you remember the trick I did with Jaio when we entered the city? I think, no, I know I can do it again, on all of us, at the same time. I can do it,” suggested Na.
“Na, if you faint…”
“I won’t. Trust me. It’s the only way we get out of here alive.”
“Okay, but you better start doing it now; we’re getting close.”
Della had been warned not to let the heralds through the gate. “If they try to leave, you kill them,” the Commander had told her and the others before they started their shifts today. She did not know why, and she had not asked. Do as you’re told and keep your mouth shut. Those were the words that had kept her in the Townsguard for all these years, and those were the words that would ensure she stayed for many years to come. She had never seen the heralds, but she had heard much about them. The tales spoke of a strange group of adventurers, some big as mountains, others small as mice. They had appeared from nowhere one day, coming from the south. Within days they had somehow been made heralds. Della did not know how, but she feared it meant they would not be easy to stop. And if the rumors are to be believed, they can travel through the rifts at will. If the heralds did indeed want to pass the southern gate, she was not sure how she and her colleagues would be able to stop them.
So far, though, the day had been relatively calm. There had, like always, been merchants and travelers making their way into the city, but not before paying their tithe. The tithe ordered by the Townmaster, under the guise of the Portmaster, Della thought. She did not concern herself much with the politics of the city, but she knew that anything that came from the Portmaster was in reality from the Townmaster. So far, though, there were no heralds in sight. Few people were entering the city, and fewer still were leaving. You’d need a pretty good reason for leaving the city, she thought. If you ever want to come back you have to pay again, and when winter comes, you’ll want to come back. A few commoners were stupid enough to leave, though. Lone riders, mostly, perhaps wanting to try their luck somewhere else. Kardh’Ao doesn’t treat everyone kindly. She let a young man through the gate, watching him ride off south.
Della had al
ways admired the architecture of Kardh’Ao, and this gate was no exception. Each stone had been meticulously placed upon the previous one, creating the illusion that the entire arched gate was a singular block of polished stone. It must have been built long ago; nowadays, they’d probably have built it with some sort of indestructible marble. It’s better like this, better to have a few things from the old days still standing. She was still admiring the architecture when the next group of commoners, a group of three, approached her. They wore simple shirts, but it seemed like they wore a second layer of clothes underneath, despite the warm weather. “Dressed for winter?” said Della.
“We come from the north, passing by,” said the first of the three, an old, wrinkled woman. In spite of her old age, she sounded strong, her voice not as raspy and gravely as you would expect.
“If I was from the north, I’d want to go south too,” Della agreed, letting the first woman through. They were riding fine steeds, almost too fine for people of their standing. Della looked at the second member - a young, small boy with a shaved head. “And who might you be?”
“That’s my son,” said the last of the three, a woman who looked to be in her early thirties, freckles covering her face.
“Brave to give someone so young such a powerful horse,” said Della. Brave, and suspicious. “One could almost be forgiven for thinking it was stolen.”
The freckled woman, Della realized, looked rather exhausted, as if she had ridden far longer and tougher than the others. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, it’s been a long ride. Here,” the freckled woman tossed a small coin pouch to Della, “this should take care of any issues, I hope. May we pass? My son is tired, too.”
Della looked at the coin pouch, weighing it in her hand. Save your energy for when the heralds come. If they come. “Very well. Safe travels.” She stepped aside and ordered her colleagues to do the same. Strange folk. Dressed like peasants but riding expensive horses and carrying pouches of golden suns. Thieves, probably. That makes them about as innocent as you can be in Kardh’Ao.
“You’re getting more skilled,” said Mae, when they were out of earshot of the guards. “Didn’t even faint this time.”
Na, still holding on to the illusion, said, “Ever since the rift, I’ve been feeling like my magic is more… potent?” It was clear the spell was taking a toll on her, but she still sounded like she was in control.
“So, what now?” asked Sam. “Do we wait until nightfall before we go back for Cad?”
“Sam, I don’t think—”
“He’s okay. He’ll have found a way. He always does. And he has your magic sword to help him.”
Mae raised her hand, and the icy sword reappeared in her grip. “He did. It returned to me a while ago. I’m sorry, Sam.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s gone. Maybe the sword returned because he had defeated them all.”
“Sam, half the Townsguard was there. Not even Cad could handle that many,” said Na. “I miss him too, but we have to accept his choice. If we go back, we’ll just get… His sacrifice will have been for nothing.” She looked back at the gate and, with a sigh of relief, let go of the spell, returning them to their normal appearances. “The Atlas… he told us the exact same words that the Commander told that guard. How did he know?”
“I’m beyond questioning how The Atlas knows and does things at this point.”
“But why did he warn us? Because it must have been a warning, no? Why else would he have mentioned it?”
“Perhaps he just likes to play games. Or perhaps he wants us alive, for some reason. Or perhaps it’s all just a big coincidence. I don’t know, Na.”
“I think he’s on our side,” said Sam. “Or rather, I think he’s on the opposite side of Kardh’Ao. Probably angry that they threw him out, so he wants to stick it to them.”
“Doesn’t do us much good thinking about it. But we owe him our lives almost as much as we owe them to Cad.”
“Almost.”
They rode on for at least a league before Samson broke the somber silence that had befallen the group. “Why do you think your sword helped Cad?”
“I… haven’t even thought about it, to be honest.”
“It has to be sentient, somehow. Or how else would it have known he was in trouble?”
“It’s… certainly more than just a sword, yes.”
“Do you think it decided Cadwell was worthy, that he was honorable, someone worth defending?” asked Na.
“I don’t think anyone doubted Cad’s honor. Especially not in the end,” replied Mae. But it is not honor that guides this blade. If it was, it would not have accepted me as its wielder.
“We should name the sword.”
“Sorry?”
“Your ice sword. It should have a name. It deserves one, don’t you think?”
“What do you propose?”
Sam did not have an answer.
“The ice is called Undying Ice, right?” asked Na. “Maybe something to do with that?”
“And it… it tried to save Cad from death. Undeath. Let’s name it Undeath,” said Sam.
“Undeath it is.” Mae opened her fist, and the blade appeared for a moment. “So, where to next?”
Thankfully, they did not appear to be followed. Quickly after leaving the city, Mae had guided the group south-west, towards the forest where they had met the Krauk giant all those weeks ago. It feels like a different life. Before we headed north. Before everything… changed. The forest made her feel safer, somehow. Every hour they travelled, the threat of the guards felt like it diminished. I doubt the Townsguard will manage to track us through this. Years of serving in the city must have dulled the guards’ survivalist senses, she reasoned. Out here, we have the advantage. What their destination was, she did not know. Worry about that after you’ve made enough ground from the city, Dart.
“Why would they want to kill us?” Na asked after a while, slowly guiding her horse on the narrow forest path. The fresh air of the forest was a welcome change from the cloud of dirt and filth that covered Kardh’Ao.
“We know too much about the rifts, and they don’t trust us. I should’ve known as soon as those guards came for us.”
“Know too much? It’s not like we would have overthrown the Fishbanes by jumping through holes in the ground,” scoffed Samson.
“True enough, but I doubt Zena wanted to take any risks. In her mind, we have a weapon, and she wants us disarmed for good.”
“Dovan is just as bad. He commands the Townsguard, he could have refused to carry out the order. Cad’s blood is on his hands. He has to pay.” Sam’s tone had changed from sad to angry.
“Cadwell told us to carry on investigating the rifts. If even he believes we’re onto something, it has to be something big, right?”
“I… don’t know, Na. Maybe.”
“I think you owe us an explanation, Mae,” said Sam, slowing down his horse. “Ever since that day with The Atlas, it’s like you’ve lost all interest in the rifts. You’ve not been yourself.”
Mae looked around. They had travelled through the forest for almost the entire day by now. We can afford a short break. “Fine. Let’s stop for a moment, eat some food, and I’ll answer your questions. I suppose you’ve earned it.”
They did not make a fire, fearing that it would lead any scouts straight to them. Instead, they stopped at a small stream, letting the horses drink up, and ate half a piece of dried meat themselves. Upon taking the first bite, they quickly realized how hungry they had been. It’s easy to forget about hunger when running for your life, I suppose, Sam thought, chewing the last piece of meat. “So, Mae?”
“Ask away.”
“Well for starters, what did The Atlas tell you?”
“I was born in Istig, further north than anywhere we went on our journey. So far north that you cannot get there by conventional means. No path leads there, and no boats dare venture so far north. Too risky, they’ve all told me. It’s a northern island that
is for all intents and purposes totally cut off from the rest of the world.”
“So how did you end up down here?”
“When I was eight years old, I was…” Mae picked up a rock, and threw it into the forest. “Well, they called it a sacrifice. Survival up there is tough, and when you have a bad year, you ask Isoa, our Goddess, for help, and give her something in return. That year, it was me who they gave to the Goddess of Snows.”
“Gave you?”
“This is not the first time I’ve seen these rifts. We had one in Istig, too, all those years ago. A sign from the Goddess, everyone thought. For a while I thought so too. It was believed that throwing tributes into the rift would make the Goddess happy.”
“But if you were thrown into the rift…”
“I don’t have an answer to that question. I don’t know how or why I survived, but I did. I appeared in a small rift far east of here, not too far from the Eastern Horizon. Ever since, I’ve been trying to find a way back to my people.”
“But surely we would have known about these rifts if they’ve appeared before? They can’t have gone unnoticed!”
“People knew of the rifts, yes. If you go back to the small village next to that rift, some people will still tell you stories about a time when there was a strange hole in the ground. The rifts are gone, though. This was one hundred and twenty years ago.”
It did not make any sense. People live until they are fifty, sometimes sixty, then they die, Sam thought. In extremely rare cases, you would meet people like Stonehand, who, thanks to their strong constitution and position of power, could live until they were close to ninety. Those were one in a million, though. It did not make any sense. But why would she lie about this? Sam had no answer. “You’re telling us you were alive a hundred and twenty years ago, is that right? I understand you correctly?”
“When you travelled through the rift, what did you feel?” asked Mae.
