When the staff looked for her tutor, they discovered that he also had disappeared. No one could say with certainty when they were last seen.
Normally Zorra wouldn’t become concerned over her younger sister’s abnormal actions, but with the recent attacks, coupled with her mother leaving, she began to worry.
Ollie offered to help with the search and struck off immediately to begin questioning the staff stationed around Della’s quarters. Zorra knew the chances of Ollie finding anything useful were slim. He hadn’t been a member of the family long enough for the staff to trust him. However, she realized his need to feel useful.
It couldn’t be easy for him. She knew he still felt like an outsider. Technically he was. It would take a lot more time and energy for the city’s perception to change concerning Ollie.
Zorra’s resources were limited. To gain the complete support of the house and get the home guards to start a search, she would need Jo’s backing. She hadn’t talked to her brother since her mother left.
She knew her mother placed Jo in charge because he was the oldest. Zorra concluded that age wasn’t necessarily the best criterion from which to base the rules of succession. From Della’s spying, Zorra learned that her older brother Brett would’ve murdered them all to become the leader of the city. Only four years older than her, and she hated to admit it, but he would have made a horrible mayor.
The walk to the mayor’s chambers stayed quiet this early in the morning, but Zorra wanted to see Jo before the first petitioners were allowed into the hall. She was surprised when the guards swung open the door and she found several artisans standing around the mayor’s desk.
She longed to speak with her brother. Her sister’s life might be at stake, but her strict mother’s upbringing taught her to wait until the impromptu meeting finished. Her mother also taught her not to eavesdrop, but the men spoke so loudly she couldn’t help but overhear. Coupled with the fact that everything had been removed from the desk to lay out a set of drawings, the whole situation intrigued Zorra.
She noted her elder brother’s voice became frustrated. “I don’t care how much it costs, this is the material I want to use.” With that, Jo slapped a hand-sized piece of white stone down onto the drawing.
“But, sir, you must realize that stone is tough to come by. It must be mined deep in the center of the shard and then transported here at even more cost. The threats from the center of the island are real—”
Jo cut the older man off. “I don’t care. If you can’t give me what I want, I will simply find someone who can. I’ve spent enough time on this. Leave before I become more distraught and consider your actions treasonous.” He turned his back to the table before continuing, “Why are you still here? You are dismissed.”
Zorra found the encounter strange. She never thought of her brother as being wound too tight, but what she just saw worried her. She stood back and waited a moment for the workers to disburse. They were all smart enough to hold their comments until well clear of the building.
Zorra started in a soft voice, not wanting to aggravate her brother. “Jo, are you all right?” She took a few tentative steps towards the dais.
Jo’s back still faced Zorra. He bent his head and raised an arm. She realized he pinched the bridge of his nose. His tell, a habit he displayed whenever the stress became too great. She barely heard his words. “I am surrounded by complete incompetence. I give simple, clear, and concise directions that no one seems capable of following. I don’t know how Mother does it.”
Zorra, at the top of the dais, scanned the drawing laid out on the table. Her first compulsion was to ask for help with searching for Della, but she knew with the mood that Jo showed, he was more likely to refuse. Changing tactics, she asked, “What is this?” and rattled the paper slightly so he would know to what she spoke.
Jo moved a quarter turn so he could see what she did. “Those are my plans to replace the market. Instead of the old wooden and cloth shelters, the merchants threw up haphazardly, I thought a grand concourse made of white marble would be more fitting for our city.”
Zorra inspected the stone that sat on the plans. It was the most beautiful color she’d ever seen. So white it looked like the snow on the distant mountaintops. “That will make a beautiful monument to everyone who died in the attack.” She was sure the artisans were correct, it would cost a fortune to build such an edifice from the white stone.
“It will be a magnificent building, larger than anything Mother ever built.” Jo turned to completely face his drawings.
Inspecting the diagrams, she saw a square in the center of the semicircle construction. She pointed with her left index finger. “What is this large square here in the center?”
“Why, sister, obviously that is my statue. It will act as the pointer of a sundial. I will watch everyone who enters the marketplace, keeping all safe who enter.”
“To act as a sundial on such a huge structure, it must be incredibly tall.”
“Now you sound like the builders. Of course, it’s tall. It has to be tall to show proper respect. I wanted at least one third as tall as the cliffs my house sits on.”
Zorra didn’t like where this went. Even at her young age, she had a number of serious questions concerning Jo’s construction project. She was positive now was not the time, with her mother off chasing pirates, to begin such an audacious plan. She also noticed slight claims that Jo had no right to make. Those would be battles for another day.
At the moment, she had changed his mood positively enough to broach the subject of their missing sister. “I need your help, brother. Della has gone missing. No one has seen her or her tutor for several days. I’m concerned she may have gone missing inside the tunnels and gotten hurt, or even worse, something terrible has happened to her.”
Jo looked up from his drawings. Zorra felt like she annoyed him merely by her presence. His eyes glazed as he asked, “Hum?”
Zorra refused to lose her temper. She restated her words succinctly, “Della has gone missing. I need the house and guards to search for her.”
That seemed to work. With a wave of Jo’s hand, he approved the action. “Take whoever you think you might need to search the grounds for her. If she has hurt herself inside the walls, we may not find her until her corpse begins to stink.”
Zorra wasn’t sure how her brother could be so coarse however right he might be. “Thank you for all your help. I just hope we find her alive and well.” She curtsied and ran down the steps of the dais and to the main doors. Her concern was to find Della. She’d lost too many family members the past few days.
On the way to the doors, she silently said a prayer to the Mother Goddess to protect the city and her family from her older brother. She never thought it a good idea for her mother to leave so soon after her father’s death.
Zorra had learned not to make rash decisions during times of stress. It was much more prudent to take a moment to ensure emotions weren’t factoring in too greatly. She knew leaders would never be able to completely divorce themselves from their emotions, especially when it came to family. But hasty decisions often led to tragedy. There was no way of knowing what the future held, but Zorra felt a deep foreboding for her city and family.
Outside the great hall, the wind blew through the doors that led outside. That was improbable. Those doors faced south, and the wind rarely blew from the south. It was a cold wind, and it caused a shiver through her body. She remembered an old saying in the cracks: beware the southern wind. Zorra understood the southern wind brought the rain, and snow to the mountains. It was just natural for them to bring storms, but today she found a more pronounced chill in the air. She wasn’t alone—the surrounding guards bundled themselves with the little cloth they wore.
The people of Zar didn’t know it, but their location near the equator of the planet gave them the most stable climate of their small world. The higher in elevation or the farther north or south a person traveled, the more extreme the weather and temperatur
e differences. These differences created people vastly different from those of Zar.
Chapter 18, Hayline Shoemaker:
Armor and weapons had been two of Hayline’s favorite subjects since his time as a child. On his own time, he devoured all manner of scrolls on the subject, including manuals of arms. If he’d been more studious in the application of their use with his size, he would’ve become unstoppable on the battlefield. However, he’d always found himself more eager to find weaker opponents and never pushed himself to reach his full potential.
What he didn’t possess in skill, he made up with in money spent on equipment. Before his incarceration, he commissioned the finest armor ever made. Through his constant research in ancient tomes, he discovered a design for armor he felt would make him nearly invincible. At the time, he never realized it, but Giblet guided the design.
His creation was completed shortly after he abdicated the Principality. He decided not to attend Hope’s coronation. He found demons lurking behind every mask. His home became a fiend pit, filled with the most hideous creatures. The only thing that kept him sane at the sight became a strap with tines that bit into his thigh. He wore the cilice pulled tight, as it gave him something to focus on beside his surroundings and the evil he saw everywhere.
The downside of the cilice, it hurt like the hells, and it kept Giblet from advising him. As long as he walked about the city, he would need to focus on the good and not destroy the evil he found. He knew that if he destroyed the evil he saw in the city, there might be no one left to inhabit it.
Hayline was ready to leave the Citadel and travel deep into the wilds. He planned to test himself and remove all vestiges of demonkind he came in contact with. He was prepared to leave at that moment, but common decency dictated that he should stop by and see his sister, the new Regent of Perdition, before leaving. He wasn’t sure what he would say to her, but he should at least try to be cordial.
He didn’t know why, but she spent little time in the Principal’s chambers. She preferred her out-of-the-way library, and she spent most days sequestered in it.
Uncertain if the rumors he heard were true, it mattered little. Meyers and Hope would probably make a satisfactory couple, if exceedingly strange. Hayline had lost many of his lustful tendencies. The death of his father rendered him deeply wounded, and the rape from the priestess damaged him more than he knew. It would be better once he escaped from the city that reminded him of the man and woman at every turn.
At his sister’s door, he tapped three times to get her attention.
He made out her voice from the far side call, “Who is it?” She sounded sweet and innocent through the door. Hayline wasn’t sure which magic she used for the transformation.
“It’s Hayline. I’m ready to leave. I thought I would wish you luck one more time before I head beyond the curtain wall.”
Even though Hayline designed his own armor, it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as he thought it might be. The metal pot that rested on his head made it impossible for him to scratch his scalp. His right hand rested on top of the helmet and moved it from side to side to scratch an annoying itch.
The door cracked open, and he stood shocked to see a demon’s face appear in the crack. He fought the recoil.
His left hand reached down and slapped the cilice wrapped around his thigh as the demon spoke with Hope’s voice. “I want to wish you luck as well. I pray your search is successful.”
Instinctively, his right hand dropped from the top of his helmet to the handle of his great sword behind his back. If the demon attacked through the door, he would cleave her in two before she could sink her claws into him. His hand held against attack, on the off chance it was his sister Hope and not what she appeared to be. “You need to watch your back. I fear our home has been overrun with all manner of foul creatures.”
The face in the crack nodded. The more pain Hayline felt on his thigh, the clearer his vision became. The demon morphed into his sister Hope. She said softly, “You know I’m always pretty good at looking out for myself. When you’re on the far side of the wall, no one will be there to watch your back.”
He relaxed a little. “The Mother will watch my back. I know that Durra’ah travels with me and watches out for me.”
“You should know better than I do about such things. I need to go. I have something cooking.” Hope moved to duck her head back inside her study.
Hayline’s foot jammed between the door and the frame, preventing her from closing it. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I couldn’t be better.” Hope glanced down at his foot. “But I can’t close the door with your foot in it.”
He took a step back, clearing the door for her. After it closed, he shrugged. “She’s a grown woman. She should know what she’s doing by now.” Hayline turned and headed for the front door.
<=OO=>
Once free of the city’s confines, Hayline removed his cilice. Before long, Giblet ran free about his thoughts.
“You should slit her throat,” the voice said in his head.
“Shush, it was Hope, my sister. I couldn’t kill her.” Hayline spoke to himself as he walked alone down the path through the farms.
“If you constantly second-guess me, this trip will become tedious,” Giblet cried.
“And if you continually whine, I will lock you back up.” Hayline patted the cilice he’d folded and placed in his shoulder pack.
Giblet remained quiet for many paces. “Do you feel that?” he asked.
“Feel what?” Hayline was glad the subject changed, at the very least.
“That wind. It blows from the south.”
“Yes, so?” Hayline shook his head. “Who cares? It feels good. Nice and cool.”
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you anything?”
“Don’t talk about my mother…”
“Listen, when the wind blows out of the south, it not only carries the rain, but it is an ill wind.” Giblet paused for a moment. Hayline knew he did it for effect, but there were times he really resented it. “We should go back and slit Hope’s throat like I want to. It is a bad omen, a portent of evil to come.”
“Stop it, or I will put it back on…”
“All right. I lied about Hope, but it is a bad sign. Something is coming.”
“Yes, the rain.” Hayline shook his head.
“Mark my words. Before the day is finished, we will need to kill.” Giblet sounded sure of himself, but Hayline wasn’t ready to murder his sister, even if she might be possessed by a creature from the lower depths of the pit of hells.
<=OO=>
The rain did come, and what started as a cool refreshing shower swiftly turned into a cold, biting downpour.
“I wish you’d brought a horse,” Giblet complained. “This would’ve been quicker on a horse.”
At the first drops, Hayline covered his armor with an oilcloth cloak. It was semi-water resistant. It was meant to keep his armor from rusting not to keep him dry. It helped for the top half, but it did little for the bottom. “This will not be fun if you are constantly complaining. I told you before, a horse would have been a liability. Once we pass the curtain wall, it’s going to become much rougher. We would’ve eventually needed to set it free.”
“We could’ve eaten it.”
“I don’t think I would’ve been able to eat a horse.”
“How much farther to the curtain?”
“I’m not certain. It is both our first time on this path.”
Giblet waited a moment before asking, “Are we there yet?”
Hayline shook his head and reconsidered if this was such a good idea. Ahead, he spotted what looked like a temporary lean-to along the side of the path. Planting season had been over for some time, and the fields were devoid of workers even before the rain. The small shelter ahead was probably built to get out of the heat of the day. Its thatch roof looked like it might keep out a portion of the rain.
“We’ll stop ahead and start a fire. Maybe w
e can dry out and warm up.”
“We should move ahead and get away from the city. We’ll be safer once we pass the wall.”
“I don’t understand what you’re so afraid of. We haven’t seen another soul for hours. I wish you would give your paranoia a break.” Hayline reached the small shelter and crouched under it. To his surprise, it stayed relatively dry and hadn’t been used for ages.
“No one tried to trap you in the mirror. If they did, you would be paranoid too,” Giblet growled.
Hayline pulled a few rocks together to reconstruct the old fire ring. He didn’t need his shelter catching flame while he slept.
“How long is it going to rain?” Giblet whined.
“Until it stops.” With a handful of the dryer straw, Hayline struck a small flame with his flint and steel. This he fed small pieces of straw and would until the fire grew large enough to catch a few pieces of leftover wood aflame.
“Shhh, someone is coming.”
Hayline was surprised when Giblet shushed him. “You know I’m the one on the outside?”
“Shhh!” Giblet tried again.
Giblet was right. Hayline heard footsteps slogging through the mud the way they just came. On the trip out from the city, he didn’t remember seeing anyone following. It had been several hours since they’d seen anyone. Unaccustomed to traveling with Giblet as his only companion, he reached to make sure the hilt of his sword sat at the ready, still within grasp from under the oilskin cloak.
“Good day to the hut. Can we join you? It is not a day fit for fowl or beast outside,” a woman’s voice called out. If Hayline sent a party to waylay another, he would send a woman.
“Sure, please join me. I started a fire.” Hayline relaxed his right hand on his sword. Both of his hands now rested under his cloak, resting on the twin daggers strapped to his belt.
A woman with ruddy cheeks and short-cropped hair poked her head around the edge of the lean-to. “I’m not alone,” she said. Her smile showed off two broken front teeth.
Fractured Loyalties Page 14
