by Rachel Crist
“Boy, we would like to get inside as soon as possible,” Amah says quickly, grabbing his attention. “If you wouldn’t mind taking our bags up to a room, we will go on ahead.”
“Of course, My Lady.”
We leave the stables and cross over a small courtyard to enter the back door of a kitchen, where the aroma of food greets us. My stomach clutches at the rich aromas. A chunk of meat swings back and forth above flames, dripping fat onto a stone hearth.
“My, oh my, look who it is.”
My head turns as a heavyset older woman comes bustling in from the front. Annie embraces Amah, and they have a quick exchange of words. Amah leaves promptly, and Annie makes her way over to me--a huge smile spread across her face.
“Livia, my dear.”
We fill in the space between us and she wraps her arms around me. She smells of herbs and spices—a comforting aroma. Pushing me back to arm’s distance, she takes me in.
“Oh, your eyes! Is it true? For so long I’ve hoped to see the magic return. And to see it in you? I just know you’ll be a great queen.”
“Thanks, Annie.”
“And don’t you worry, you being queen won’t stop me from giving you crowberry pie.”
She sets pie in front of me, then turns to the chunk of meat hanging from the hearth. She saws off the joint, plops it on a plate, and adds a wedge of cheese to my meal. I waste no time filling my mouth.
By the time Amah comes back, I have already inhaled everything. She proceeds to tell Annie of our encounter with the Silent Watcher while I wait in silence.
“I haven’t heard a whisper about intruders. How could he have got past The Wall?“
“I thought the same thing,” Amah replies.
“I wonder,” Annie continues, “if the Violet Guard is starting to become too relaxed at their posts. I’d mention it to the Regent.”
Amah gives a firm nod. “I sent him a message hoping to get an escort within the week. I hope you don’t mind our intrusion?”
“Of course I don’t mind, you know that. If these assassins are getting through, I would rather have the two of you here rather than out there alone.” Annie shifts in her chair. “I’m not supposed to say this, but I think it might help put your mind at ease. The Regent’s right-hand man is here. He arrived four days ago.”
Amah straightens up. “What’s he doing here?”
“His mother passed away a couple of weeks ago, up north. He came by to collect his brother and they are just passing through to go back to the city. You met his brother only moments ago—the young boy in the stable. He loves horses, and his brother asked if he could help. I couldn’t say no.”
A pang sweeps through my chest. How awful.
“If you want, I can let him know you are here?”
“I’ll think on it,” Amah replies. “Thank you.”
After a few more pleasantries, Annie takes us to our room. We find comfort in the softness of our beds before I fall asleep. I can only hope these next few days fly by fast.
* * *
I awake sometime in the night, startled by a disturbing dream. Turning on my side to face Amah, I discover her gone. I often wonder if she ever sleeps at all.
No longer tired, I go to the window. The silver moon is high in the sky giving off the only light shining over the quiet town. Before long, I’ll be in my own city, finally getting to experience my own form of community. Every time I think of it, a thrill of excitement courses through me. And to know I have the gift?
A movement down the street catches my attention. A large man steps out from the shadows. My blood turns ice cold. He’s the size of the assassin I saw two days ago. An alarm goes off inside me. I must warn Amah.
Pulling on my trousers and boots, I grab my cloak and rush out the door and down the stairs. The tavern is dark and empty. Staying in the shadows of the room, I keep clear of the moonbeams that cast light across the floor. Through the window, I see the Silent Watcher move toward the back of the house.
Dashing through the kitchens, I open the back door. A soft glow comes from the barn and I rush towards them in hopes of finding Amah.
Instead, I find the boy from earlier, brushing Rosie down. He has no idea what danger lurks around the corner.
Not having much time, I hurry to his side. He startles when he sees me, and I press my finger to my lips. His eyes widen but he keeps quiet.
Whispering as softly as I can, I tell him that we need to hide. I point to the covered wagon and we both quickly climb inside.
The assassin steps out from the shadows. I’m unsure if he’s seen us. All I can make out is his large frame.
I feel the boy shaking next to me, and I reach over to calm him. Despair flashes through me. This boy’s pain feels deep.
He covers his mouth, and I’m sure he felt my gift. But when his pale face looks over my shoulder, I look back to the assassin’s silhouette up against the canvas. All he has left to do is peer behind the loose flap, to see both of us sitting inside.
I frantically look around for something I can use to defend us, when I hear the ring of another blade drawn.
“Are you lost, assassin?” It’s a man’s voice.
A second blade is drawn. Taking a chance, I creep forward and peak through the gap. I can’t see the man who spoke because the bulk of the assassin fills my view.
The assassin attacks. The challenger sidesteps and blocks him—he’s probably hoping to get him away from us. But then again, does he know we are here?
The assassin advances again and the man pivots back, blocking his blade a second time. Footsteps approach from behind them and I instantly recognize Amah’s gait.
The assassin swipes his blade towards Amah. Horror fills my chest. I scream out.
Amah’s sword comes up to meet his and they turn to see my head poking out from behind the flap.
Aggression from the assassin comes full force. Amah and the challenger meet his advance, determined to keep him from me.
“Grab horses, and go!” The man yells.
Amah drops back and hurries over to me.
“Quick Livia, get on Rosie. I’ll grab another horse. Hurry!”
“But Amah…”
“No time to discuss. Go!”
Reaching back, I grab the boy and pull him forward. I can’t leave him behind. Amah’s lips press firmly together seeing my dilemma.
“I’ll take him with me. Now go.”
I climb out from the back and hurry to Rosie. In no time, we are riding swiftly out into the night, escaping the night’s sudden terror. I can only hope the stranger has our same luck.
7
Vera
A brilliant shade of violet looks at me from my reflection. I should be excited. But I’m not.
I’d awakened in a pool of my own sweat, terrified of what I would see. So now, as I look at my reflection, it reminds me of the binding contract, of the noose tight around my neck.
Everyone will know of the change by looking at me. What they won’t know, is that a strange hum encompasses my body, forcing it to cooperate. I’m curious to know what gift this might be. So, too, will the king.
I dress quickly, suppressing this new sensation. It won’t be long before the king learns my eyes have changed. Until then I’ll enjoy what time I have left.
My first stop of the morning takes me to Zyrik. I peek my head inside and see his bed empty. My first instinct is to panic, thinking the king has taken him. But I remain calm and step further inside. Zyrik suddenly jumps out from behind a chair, throwing small pieces of paper in the air. Relief escapes my lungs in a burst.
Zyrik runs towards me and jumps into my arms, squeezing his arms around my neck.
“Hey, you!”
He pulls back to look at me. Fear takes hold of him and he wiggles out from my embrace and retreats to the back of the room.
“It’s okay, Little Rik. It’s still me. I got different colored eyes for my birthday. Do you like them?” I turn my head side to side.
&n
bsp; Zyrik squints, his tongue slightly pushed out. Seconds later, he comes running back.
“Oh, you are getting so big.”
He puts his hands on either side of my face and peers into my eyes. He moves my head in small movements, looking from every angle.
“Do you like them?”
Zyrik shrugs his shoulders.
“Yeah, me too.” He releases my face. “So, what are you doing today? Anything exciting?”
He points over to his chest of toys.
“That seems like fun.”
He nods and smiles. He points to me, then to himself, before motioning over to the chest.
“I wish I could stay and play, I really do. But I’m going to be extra busy today. But, I promise I’ll come see you later. You must promise me that you’ll stay out of trouble.”
His blonde curls bounce as he makes a crisscross over his heart with a finger. Kissing him on the cheek, I let him go.
How I wish I could stay with him, away from what the rest of this day will entail. Unfortunately, I can’t hide so easily. Especially from the king and his dumb councilmen.
* * *
Already the castle is awake, and busy with the final touches for my birthday celebration. Curious eyes find me, and I duck my head. I just need a little bit longer to enjoy this day without them wagging their tongues.
I pass through the stables and look up to the arena. I sigh. The biggest challenge will be avoiding thousands of assassins. If only I could wear a mask. Wisps of white clouds form neat lines above, dragged by a wind I can’t feel.
Halfway up the hill, a shout disturbs my thoughts.
“Vera, wait!”
Nate, Karl, and Murrow are running to catch up. They must’ve just completed a shift. They are dressed out in their black threads and leather armor, all of them holding their red masks. Then it dawns on me.
Today is also the day for The Silent Trials. Which means not only do I have to avoid thousands of assassins, but also the king and the people of Dryden.
My mood plummets.
Nate is the first to see my expression. “You forgot…” He stops mid sentence on seeing my eyes, while Karl and Murrow groan as they lag behind.
“You know, Vera, it’s not that hard to remember,” Murrow blurts out.
Karl punches him in the arm. “Easy Murrow, or you might find something important cut off one day.”
“Yeah, right!”
They finally catch up and notice Nate’s silence. Both finally look at me, and their mouths fall open.
“Wicked.”
“Does this mean you have the gift?” Karl asks.
“I’m not sure what the gift is yet. But I’m sure if I don’t find out soon, the king will torture it out of me.”
We continue to walk towards Graves Hill. They wish me a happy birthday and don’t say any more about my gift. I’m glad they don’t make a big deal about it; it’s one of the many reasons they’ve been my friends this long—they know when to shut up. Instead, I fill them in on the contract I signed.
“It’s not right,” Karl grumbles. He runs his hand through his ash brown hair, but it falls right back over his protruding brow.
“It’s beyond not right. You know how many times we’ve planned the king’s death?” Murrow complains.
It’s true. We’ve spent many evenings contemplating hundreds of different ways to kill the king. We even all agreed that I would be the one to give the final blow. So much for wishing.
I take note of Nate’s silence. “What’s wrong with you?”
He shakes his head and frowns. Kicking a rock off the path, he finally answers. “How much longer do you have to suffer, Vera? I hate all this, and you deserve so much more.”
I remember when Nate first arrived at Graves Hill. He’d been ripped from his family at the ripe age of eight and forced to become an assassin. He later found out his parents were killed for trying to stop his abduction. I was the one who comforted him when he couldn’t function during our training. I shared my own story and told him we had to do what they wanted to survive. We have been best friends ever since.
My throat clenches. “Thanks, Nate.”
We hear the sound of the drums starting as we enter the arena. Today everyone will be dressed out and wearing red masks. There is nothing more daunting then a force of uniformed Silent Watchers. This is why the people fear them.
In the center, ten whipping blocks are lined up along a wooden stage. Two assassins paces back and forth, holding the whips they will use to inflict pain. Just by the arrogant struts of one of them, I know it is Kah. Bastard. Not only is he to be exempt, but he is ruthless with just the flick of his wrist.
It’s lucky for me it’s my birthday. So I, too, am exempt. King Kgar likes me healthy for the evening’s celebration.
“Where are you guys today?”
“Not the cages, thank the Maker.” Murrow says in relief.
Murrow and the others slide their masks on. I wave goodbye as we go our separate ways.
The Silent Trials follow the same rules as on any other day. Except that for today, it’s a tournament. The assassins have been split up amongst all the different stations. You don’t want to be assigned to the cages.
Today, the cages can seal one’s fate to the mines. Ten sparring cages have been built in front of the king’s platform. If you lose, the king decides your fate—a whipping block or the mines. No one wants to go to the mines.
This whole event is entertainment for the people. King Kgar knows he must give something to them. This is how he does it. Bets will be made, and coin will flow at a cost to the participants.
I run for the furthest cage, away from the king and his ever watchful Woman of the Scree. My stomach tightens as I see those two in the stands. Fortunately, they haven’t seen me—yet.
Captain Leech stands inside a cage and is already choosing the first two fighters. Unlike Ryker, his matchups aren’t out of spite. The drums cease beating, casting silence over the entire arena.
Bellek steps onto the whipping block stage, his red commander cloak demanding our attention.
“Let The Silent Trials begin!”
The crowd roars and the wagers are offered.
* * *
Hours pass by with fight after fight. Most losers go to the whipping block, but it’s worse for those few sent to the mines. I watch as an assassin hands over his red mask and then steps into the back of a wagon, one that will take him straight to the mines in Wolfmere Peaks.
All of our lives we’ve been taught to not fear the Peaks, but old stories circle around. All of us know about the magical creatures that once lurked in the mountains. Rumor says nothing has been seen of them since the magic was taken. But some claim to have seen monstrous shadows at dusk that resemble nightmares. With our mines located at the edge of Wolfmere Peaks, we never know who makes it to the mines. We do know that not everyone returns.
“Slyk and Marcus!”
My eyes snap into focus hearing Marcus’s name. With everyone wearing masks I wasn’t aware he was around.
My heart thumps hard inside my chest. Not from nerves, but from the thrill of seeing him fight. Marcus is one of our top fighters. His skills are what drew me to him to begin with.
Slyk is another one of Captain Ryker’s cronies. His slim frame and elongated neck give him the impression of a weasel. Marcus towers over him, flexing his arms. As always, overly arrogant.
Captain Leech signals them to start. Marcus immediately goes for Slyk’s legs. Slyk is ready and pivots back, coming down hard with his elbow, aiming for Marcus’s back. Whipping around, Marcus catches Slyk’s elbow and punches him hard in his face.
They fight hard for long minutes, neither one weakening. Eventually, they both end up on the ground. Slyk wraps his legs around Marcus, pinning him in place. Each time Slyk throws a punch, Marcus blocks him. Soon enough you can sense Slyk’s frustration.
Marcus thrusts his hips up hard causing Slyk to loosen enough for him to escape. T
hey scramble around, sand flying everywhere. Each tries to get a grip on the other. Suddenly, Marcus gets a hold of Slyk’s arm and pulls it between his legs and falls back. A loud pop is heard. Slyk yells out in pain.
Captain Leech calls the fight. Marcus drags himself up, exhaustion marked in his heavy breathing. He turns to exit the cage, leaving Slyk to cradle his arm.
But Slyk makes a movement that I can’t ignore. A flash of silver comes up in his good hand. He wasn’t supposed to have any weapons on him! Panicked, I look to Marcus who has no idea his life is in danger.
I imagine Slyk’s arm breaking in half. At the same time, I throw a knife of my own. A pained cry escapes his lips as I watch his arm snap in half, his bone popping out through the skin. As this unfolds, my knife pierces his eye.
The assassins around me take a step back, exposing me for my crime. The audience, however, sees entertainment and their cheers only get louder. My problem now is I’m in full view of King Kgar, and I’m sure he has witnessed everything. Including the use of my gift.
A messenger is sent to determine my fate.
Slyk’s body lays lifeless. His arm is a mangled mess. Marcus stands outside the cage. He shakes his head. The men around me start to fidget, having witnessed something they have never seen before. I too am unsure what to think.
The messenger finally comes back and delivers the word to Captain Leech. I wait. Leech turns and twirls his hand in the air.
I’m yanked by my collar by rough hands that couldn’t care less about being subtle. I look to the king. His face has no expression as his dark gaze locks on mine. Unable to keep my balance, my feet stumble over themselves as I’m dragged to the whipping block. Kah grabs me from the Watcher and throws me up against a post. He straps my hands up to the metal ring, then unhooks my bodice in back. A knife slices through my black threads. Punishment is to be on bare skin.
I know the lashes will flay my back open, and my body slightly trembles at the thought. But I hold my head up high, too proud to let them sense my fear. If this is what the king wants, then this is what he will get.
