Temporal Locum

by Wendie Nordgren

  Wrinkling her nose at the smell of unwashed male bodies, piss, and other less pleasant things, she forced her bruised body to move. They had entered a long, underground corridor along which cells with barred doors were located.

  “Come on, Bortag. Let me out. I’m sober.” Fingers clutched at the bars on the cell door’s window.

  The jailor, Bortag, had the striking speed of a rattlesnake. His hand shot through the bars so fast that the drunken prisoner didn’t have the coordination or good sense to get himself out of reach. “Listen here, you, worthless pile of shit. You’ll stay right where you are until your commanding officer remembers you exist.” He quickly released the man, causing him to stumble back and fall on top of a bucket which clanked around on the roughly hewn stone floor.

  Bortag shoved Bym to the corridor’s end, toward a dark cell in which she heard scurrying sounds. Rats? Mice? She didn’t know. She did know that she’d rather fight a goblin than have either species of vermin touching her. He pushed the cell door open, seized Bym, dragged her inside, and slapped a manacle around her left wrist. It closed with a rusty clank as did the door after he quickly left. Her body ached from all of the attention she’d gotten from the Solis over the last few hours. Unfortunately, Iago wasn’t here to make any of those aches and pains better. She took a visual inventory of her lonely cell. There was a pile of straw, a bucket of water on which a rat was perched, a small hole in the center of the floor for waste, and a square metal plate, bolted to the stone floor, to which her manacle’s chain was attached.

  She pulled with all of her strength, but the metal plate didn’t even rattle a little. All she managed was to make her wrist bleed. Giving up, she sat on the straw and thought of Guto. He’d died trying to protect her. She tried to force herself not to think of him. It hurt too much. She needed to get out. She needed to get away from these vile, sadistic bastards and back to the Umbra where it was safe and where innocent men weren’t murdered for no reason. Wiping her eyes on her robes, she searched for a way out, but her chain didn’t give her much slack. At least, her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. Her despondency grew. Not finding any means of escape, eventually she slept.

  Her cell door opened. No, it had been closing. Within reach were a covered bowl and a canteen. Grabbing the latter, she uncorked it and let the water wash away the aching dryness in her throat. Deciding to save half of it, she stoppered it and looked in the bowl. It contained two hardboiled eggs and a piece of stale bread. Too hungry to care, she ate all of it.

  Unpleased at being forced to use the drain at the center of her cell, she dumped some water from the bucket down it and rinsed off her bloody wrist. Whether or not it had been wise to do so was open for debate either due to rats or other things.

  The drain went underground to a place where goblins often visited in expectation of finding apple cores or other edible refuse. They weren’t particular. However, on this day, they found that which they had sought, a scent so delectable that they craved it, yearned for it. It was an instinctual hunger. The smell of blood was faint but strong enough for the goblin to set up a desperate wail to his brethren. The horde awoke, clawing and climbing over one another, as they strained to smell that which their nest mate had scented. Then, the lot of them were like ants spilling out of a kicked pile.

  Bym’s drowsing was interrupted by the grating sound of metal. Eurig had come to visit, and behind him Bortag locked the door. “What are you doing here?” she growled.

  “You don’t have to stay here.” He gestured around at the cold, damp dungeon. “Recant. Pledge your loyalty to the Solis,” he pleaded. “I don’t know what lies the Umbra have told you, but they’re demon spawn. You don’t belong with the devils in the dark. You belong with us in the light. You’re a good kid. I’ve seen the kindness in you.”

  Bym shook her chain at him. “You’re right about one thing. I am good, but so are the Umbra. You’re the one who is wrong about everything else. You’re blinded by the shiny Solis sun worshippers. You think their bright light cleans them, but all it does is illuminate their faults and the crimes they commit against humanity for the perpetuation of their villainy. Maybe once they were good, but now all that matters to them is power and their war machine.”

  Eurig’s face darkened with anger. “The Umbra have tricked your mind with their lies and fooled your heart.”

  “No, you’re the one who has been misled. You’ve believed as truth what others have told you. Open your eyes and judge for yourself what the Solis do. Have you not eyes that see in the light? Did their cruelty not affect your own family? Have you not seen firsthand the destruction of innocent lives, women dead, for the sake of power? Perhaps, if you took a moment to allow yourself to see in the darkness, you would see the corruption to which the sun’s brightness blinds you.”

  Furious, he yelled, “Guard!” Staring down at Bym, he said, “You’re where you belong, here in a dungeon where you can spread your filthy lies. I never should have come back for you.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.”

  When Bortag opened the door, Eurig turned his back and left. He didn’t turn around.

  Bym sat, closed her eyes, and concentrated on the darkness. She willed the stars to find her, even hidden from them as she was. During the hours in which she meditated, she slipped in and out of consciousness, until she was ripped from her restful state by tortured, agonized screams.

  “No,” the drunk wailed. “Not another one. Aurora, make it stop.”

  Ice formed in Bym’s guts. She knew what they’d heard. It was the sound of yet another futile female sacrifice. It had to end. She concentrated on the manacle on her bloody wrist, willing it to break. She had to free herself, escape, and return to the Umbra. She needed for them to announce her as the Temporal Locum. No. Her own cowardice shamed her. She could announce herself, but if the Solis knew who she was, she’d spend an eternity as their prisoner, or countless lives could be lost trying to liberate her.

  Rattling the heavy chain, she screamed in frustration. Why couldn’t she have magical powers like Drem? All she amounted to was a tether for this dimension, a means to keep it from unravelling. Unravelling threads…. She felt a trace of something, caught at a vague memory of what she’d once loved, and realized she could no longer function in this world like a tacky, stitched-on applique. She had to find a way to weave herself into this reality before it and everyone for whom she’d grown to care suffered for it, suffered as Guto had. But, how?

  “Let me out! I can fight!” a prisoner, the only one other than Bym, yelled as he rattled his bars.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed. “Fight who?” she called out. When her question wasn’t acknowledged, she called out again in a louder voice.

  “The Umbra, your kind, are at the gates, demanding your release.”

  “Then, why not let me go?”

  “Why should we? It’s more fun to fight.”

  “Fighting leads to injury and death.”

  “Aye, indeed or victory and ale!”

  “Aren’t you in here because of ale?”

  “Mind your own business,” he retorted. “The sun’s burning bright. They’ll be too blind to defend themselves against our archers.”

  Dread washed over Bym. She knew she’d have to concentrate on the night, or else it would vanish. Sitting on the dirty straw, she closed her eyes to meditate as the priestesses of the Temporal Locum had taught her. Focused on her breathing, her mind eventually calmed, and she willed darkest night to fall. When she heard the man stumbling around and making his bucket clatter, she assumed her meditation had worked. It was all she could do to help the Umbra. She only hoped it was enough.

  However, her fellow prisoner yelled out, “They’ve lit the fires! Darkness won’t help the demon spawn now!”

  She paced with her chain clanking against the stone floor. Then, she heard an unmistakable sound. It reverberated through her feet and set her teeth on edge. Goblin screams. The heavy footfalls of soldiers
thundered above her head.

  Again, he cried, “Let me out! Let me kill them!” His fervor chilled her blood. Who did he want to kill, the goblins or her people?

  That was who they were. The Umbra were her people, and they were here, facing death on two fronts because of her. Her cell door opened, and she saw a flash of red. Fear of Bortag chilled her, but it was Eurig. His eyes no longer contained the look of pride which they’d once had. Instead, he looked like one who had realized that his boyhood heroes had been the villains all along. “They let that girl die, Bym. They could have dragged her from under the arch, but they let her die. I watched it all from too far away. I ran, but it was too late. White fire shot out, over and over, blackening her flesh while she screamed. How could they do it? How can they send them through knowing what might happen? Isn’t a person worth anything?” He bent over and struggled with her manacle and the key in the darkness. “Forgive me, Bym. You were right. I’ve been a fool.”

  “I won’t forgive you right now. If you want my forgiveness, you’ll have to earn it.”

  He stared down at her with brown eyes filled with pain.

  “Take me to the arch.”

  “The arch? We need to get to the fence behind the mess hall. There’s a spot where the ground is soft from the cooks’ discarded oil. We can dig under and out before they notice us if we hurry.”

  The manacle fell from her wrist. The chain slinked onto itself like a dead snake as it formed a pile between them with the bloody cuff resting on top, the head of the snake. “If you want to prove something to me, prove you’re willing to do the right thing, no matter the personal cost, be it pain or death, and take me to their arch.”

  “What do you think to accomplish there? It’s solid stone blocks as thick and wide as you are tall. We can’t knock it down, even with horses.”

  She stared at him.

  “Damn it,” he muttered. “Follow me.” He took off out of the dungeon and along the corridor.

  Afraid of being caught, she did her best to stay close. The other prisoner looked relaxed. She whispered, “Why isn’t he screaming his head off?”

  “Before I came to you, I stole a bottle of spirits, gave it to him, and waited a few minutes. It worked like a charm.” He paused at the steps, looking both ways and up into the guard room.

  In a barely audible whisper, she asked, “Where’s Bortag?”

  “Gone to fight. Here. Take this. You’ll need it.” He handed her a sword and belt. The blade was too long and heavy for her but far better than having no weapon at all. While she fastened it at her waist, he draped a red cloak over her shoulders and fastened it at her neck. “Stay close.”

  She was eager to leave the jail and did her best to imitate his purposeful walk. Fires burned brightly along the walls. Archers stood ready at the balustrades. Horses were being saddled, and men marched toward the walls, leaving the central locations of the fort practically empty. Bym willed forth a darker night and for the stars to hide their lights.

  Beyond the Solis fort’s walls, goblins hissed and clawed. They weren’t as intrigued by the Umbra as they were enthusiastic to breach the wall and taste of her blood. The Umbra warriors who were there to free her used the goblin horde’s distraction to cull their numbers, and Solis soldiers slashed and stabbed the flesh of the ones their archers failed to hit. The commotion made for good cover.

  It wasn’t long before the two of them arrived breathless at the foot of the great gate. Bym stared up at it, feeling its hum of power in her blood. The goblin screams grew louder, wilder as if they sensed her proximity to the powerful artifact. Though carefully maintained, it was like the one in front of which she’d awoken alone in the deserted forest. Fearing what she planned to do, she turned to Eurig.

  His eyes darted to her and then away. “Whatever you think to do, do it now! We must flee! If they catch us, we’ll both be executed, you as a spy and me for treason.”

  She studied him, judging his resolve. “It isn’t too late for you. You could take me back and turn me over. You could be a hero.”

  He looked at the top of the arch. His mind seemed distant as if he relived the girl’s death. “In the stories, Bym, in the stories, they’re good.” Confused, he shook his head. “Why can’t I reconcile all the stories Pa told us with what I’ve seen with my own eyes?”

  “Maybe, the stories were true once. Eurig, I need to know if you’re with me. There’s no going back.” She waited, preparing her heart for disappointment.

  Lowering his chin, he looked her in the eyes. “I don’t know much of what’s true anymore, but I know our friendship is.”

  “Can I trust you?” She forced her fingers to remain relaxed at her sides, but her blood itched.

  The goblins were frenzied, making Eurig eager to answer her so they could leave. “From here on out, we’re family. I can’t go home or ever show my face here again. Do what you want to do, and let’s go,” he said in an urgent whisper. “The goblins are going mad.”

  Bym let the red cloak fall from her shoulders. It pooled like blood at her heels. “They’ll never stop coming, Eurig. They’re coming for me.”

  He stared at her without comprehension until she stepped under the arch.

  Chapter Twelve

  Electricity shot out at her from a thousand points, filling the gate’s center with blue fire. Bym stood caught by the intense power, unable to move. Eurig darted forward, intent on dragging Bym back, terrified the boy would die screaming as the girl had, but when the tips of his fingers made contact with the blue flames, he was caught up and trapped to Bym’s back. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t move, but he could see.

  The energy didn’t hurt Bym. To her, it felt as the starshine had, like an intense static. “No more sacrifices! No more death!” she screamed.

  Solis soldiers turned toward the bright blue light emanating out of the darkness and stared at the bald Umbra acolyte and the new recruit who had brought him in. They cried out, “Aurora! Bless the Goddess! Aurora has returned!”

  Hearing their shouts, Bym said, “I’m not Aurora.”

  Drawing the electric light into herself, she took everything she could to the point of agony. Then, she pushed it out. Like the quartz ceiling of the atrium, the gate burst outward into millions of pieces. The soldiers and goblins who had discarded their shock to run forward were hurled backwards and pelted with the shattered stones, but when they opened their eyes, only rubble, darkness, and war remained. As the last pebble settled to the ground, the mighty timber fence surrounding the fort shook and splintered with mage power. The hooves of black horses left clouds of sawdust behind them as their riders attacked. Howling with fury, the goblin horde also attacked. Their frustration over the disappearance of the sweet scent of goddess blood made them particularly vicious.

  Bym and Eurig hit the ground and tumbled. She felt his weight on top of her, and then her weight on top of him, over and over until they rolled to a stop. His heavy form was on her back, and her face was in the dirt. He slid to his side, got to his feet, and stumbled away while breathing heavily and staring at her. Then, he retched repeatedly from the shock of gate travel.

  Exhausted, she pushed her chest from the ground and sat on her butt, spitting dirt from her mouth as she did.

  “What just happened? What was that?” Eurig yelled in a hoarse voice. He tried to pace but ended up stumbling around like a drunk. “Aurora, save us.”

  Bym stared at him. “Aurora can’t save you. She’s gone.” She had a flash of memory of an old couple and Halloween candy.

  Eurig stared back at her as though she’d blasphemed.

  Getting to her feet, she tiredly walked over to the ancient portal. At her touch, blue lights twinkled upon it like stars on a blanket of stone. She gazed up at the night sky.

  “Aurora,” Eurig choked out.

  “No, she’s gone. My first memory of your world is of this place, goblins, burning farms, and death. Then, there was you. I might have died if not for you, but you lef
t me! You left me!” She screamed the last of it, filling her words with the pain his abandonment had caused her, pain she’d refused to acknowledge.

  His boots scuffed at the pebbled dirt as he approached. “But, you’re a boy…. How can you be….”

  “I’m not! I’m not a boy! I’m a woman and a coward! Seeing the Solis taking those women from their families terrified me. I saw what they did! You didn’t! You don’t know what they did to Abigail’s father, but I do! I saw. I saw what the goblins did to his dead body afterwards, his body that had a Solis spear imbedded in it!”

  Eurig’s eyes slowly changed as his confusion and disbelief were transformed by the truth of her confession.

  “Had you never been to her father’s farm? Did you not recognize the clothes or the donkey which I’d borrowed?”

  Heavy hands settled on her shoulders, weighing her down and keeping her from drifting off into hysteria. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he softly asked.

  “Tell you?” Disbelief clouded her features. “You wanted to join them, to be one of them!” Hot angry tears fell, but she didn’t care. Jerking her right shoulder back, she made a fist and hit him in the jaw as hard as she could. Her knuckles cracked in protest. Other than giving his head a shake and dropping his hand from her other shoulder, he didn’t react. “You wanted to be one of them! Lives mean nothing to them! Nothing but power and sunlight matter to them, but I’ve learned the light is not always good, and the dark is not always evil. Do you know how the Umbra test for the Temporal Locum? Do you?” She shoved at his chest, but he kept his eyes downcast. “Meditation. That’s right. They sit and do some kind of guided breathing and relaxation. No one dies. No one screams in agony while burning to death.” She shoved at him again only to fall embarrassingly on her own butt.