by Kody Boye
“Tea would be great, thanks?”
The woman set the kettle above the fire and stoked its flames before turning to join her at the table. “Now tell me,” the woman said. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you to tell me if you know anything about the bandit clans that operate in the northern part of the Far Roads.”
“Which ones?” Cabara replied.
“Which?” Carmen frowned. “You mean there’s more than one.”
“People aren’t privy to the knowledge that many live outside the jurisdiction of the kingdom,” Cabara said, placing her ringed hands upon the table. “It’s simpler to live outside of the law—when whatever coin you make can be yours to keep and not fed into a patriarchal system in which your coin is then recycled into other people’s hands. Most call these taxes. Others call them stealing.” Cabara placed one finger to her lip and traced the curve of her cupid’s bow. “Tell me, Carmen: do you not feel outraged when you understand how some people live and others don’t?”
“You mean like you?” Carmen asked.
The woman laughed. “Me?” she said. “Oh, Gods no, child. I don’t live like this. This is only my home within suburbs. I own a sprawling home within the city, complete with my own gardens and functioning bathhouse. This is merely my stationary home for the times I am conducting business.”
“So I caught you at the right time,” Carmen said.
“Indeed,” Cabara replied. “So tell me: why are you interested in the bandit communes beyond the city? Have they done something to dissatisfy you?”
“They’ve kidnapped a number of farmers from a homestead just outside the city, including many of their workers. I found the only survivor hiding within her family’s homestead.”
“So you’re asking me to obtain information on these so-called individuals so you can…”
“Rescue their hostages and arrest them,” Carmen said.
“Tsk,” the spy replied. “That… sounds awfully dangerous, especially for someone who’s used to dealing with matters only within the city.”
“I can pay.”
“But how much?”
Carmen reached into her coin purse and withdrew the five gold pieces the guildmaster of Xandau had given her. “Would this be enough?” she asked, pushing them forward.
The woman’s eyes widened briefly before returning to normal. “I’ll see what I can do with this,” she said, reaching for the pieces.
Carmen grabbed her hand before she could snare them within her grasp. “You’ll get me information,” Carmen replied. “Understand?”
“Are you threatening me, Miss Delarosa? Because I can assure you—the king does not take kindly to his men threatening his people.”
“I’m only asking for any information you can give me on their whereabouts,” Carmen said. “I don’t need to know how many, if they’re armed, if they’re dealing within the slave trade or anything else of that nature. I simply want to know where those people are and how I can get to them.”
“Understandable,” Cabara replied. She waited for Carmen to withdraw her hand before pressing her hand to the table and sliding the gold pieces before her. “Silly me,” she then said as the kettle began to screech. “I completely forgot about our tea.”
“I’m leaving anyway,” Carmen said, standing. “I’m staying at the far watchtower on the northwestern side of town. You can find me there whenever you discover any information.”
“I bid you farewell then, miss Delarosa.”
“And you,” Carmen replied before letting herself out the door.
- - -
She returned to the watchtower later that afternoon and kept her silence on the matter at hand. Alone, save for the sounds of the people in the streets outside, she remained seated in a chair that overlooked the southern side of the city and tried not to dwell on the matter at hand.
There needs to be something, she thought. And soon.
She knew nothing of how long it would take for an official investigation to begin, nor how long Cabara would require before she began to pool her resources in an attempt to garner what Carmen desired. It could be days, she knew, before the whirligigs even went out, and even then it could be days more until anything was found. By that time, the bandits would have already moved on; and if they’d already moved on, that would only mean—
Carmen swallowed the lump that rose in her throat.
It would mean, she thought bitterly as she continued to look out that window, that they would either be sold or dead.
Or in a place that could only be reached by the Gods.
With a sigh, Carmen drew a blanket about her shoulders and fingered for her mace that was propped against the wall at her side—knowing, but not feeling, that she was doing right when she knew others would consider her wrong. The politics here were enormous, yet at the same time she recognized that even the slightest amount of information—if confirmed by the eyes and possibly even a pictograph—would be enough to spur an investigation on.
“There’s nothing you can do until then,” Carmen muttered.
She reached for a book, fumbled through its storytale contents, and began to read.
Try as she may, the words did nothing but remind her of her own inadequacy.
- - -
She slept that night on the landing she shared with Stella. Arranged in a bed fit for a king and content with the fact that the cool wind was enough to contrast the warm blankets above her person, Carmen closed her eyes and tried her hardest to fall asleep, but to no avail. Nightmares kept throwing themselves at her consciousness—of men and women bound and gagged and children made to be sold for torture. She tossed and turned, trying to make herself comfortable in body even though she was not in mind, and when she found herself unable to even do that, she rose, descended the stairwell in her nightclothes, and stepped out into the city.
Here, beneath the star-lit sky, Carmen looked on in wonder.
There’s a whole other world outside this mountain, she thought, shivering as the wind descended into the crater and stirred the nearby instruments on the high towers that registered the temperature and weather. She wrapped her arms around herself as she watched their mechanical fans twisting in tune to the breeze, but stopped when she heard footsteps approaching from behind her.
She turned, prepared for a fight even though she was unarmed.
She found none other than Colby Arnold James staring back at her. “Colby,” she breathed.
“Sorry I spooked you,” the man replied, offering an uneasy laugh as he reached back to rub his neck. “I heard someone get up and thought I should come out and see what was wrong.”
“You should know what’s wrong by now,” Carmen replied, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.
“Yeah. I do.” Colby stepped alongside her to look up at the stars outside the crater. “Pretty, ain’t they?”
“They’re beautiful,” Carmen replied. “One of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen.”
“If you look there,” Colby said, reaching down to take hold of Carmen’s hand before lifting it and trailing one finger to something in the distance, “you can see what looks like a unicorn in the sky.”
“You’re screwing with me.”
“I’m not. Look.”
Carmen looked again, squinting to try and see what the machnist was trying to point out in the sky. At a particular angle it did appear that, yes, there was a unicorn in the sky, but only if one tilted their head at an awkward angle and used their imagination to fill the rest of the blanks in. “I… guess,” Carmen replied. “I mean… sort of. Not… really.”
“It’s called an imagination,” Colby said. “And there really is one there. There’s starmaps of it and everything. They call it The Hornblarin Unicorn.”
“Because it rests over the mountains?” Carmen asked.
“Because it can really only be seen from this mountain,” Colby replied, smiling. He relinquished his hold on her hand and allowed it to fall slack at his sid
e. “I’m sorry I bothered you. I just wanted to see if you were all right.”
“I won’t rest easy until those people are back safe and sound,” Carmen said.
“I know. It’s just… we have to wait. Due course and all, yannow?”
“I know.”
Colby turned and started back toward the tower, shivering as yet another breeze drifted down the crater and into the city of Dorenborough. “If you’d like,” he said, turning to look back at her, “we could go out and eat tomorrow. Just the two of us.”
“Why only the two of us?” Carmen frowned. “What about the rest of the—”
She stopped as she considered the implications, then thought, Oh.
Colby offered a smile that revealed only a hint of his teeth.
“I’m… not sure if we should,” Carmen replied. “Wouldn’t we get in trouble?”
“No,” he said. “I mean, it’s not looked highly upon, but have you seen Adrian? Or even heard what he’s done? It’s not like the two of us going out would make much of a difference.”
“I see,” Carmen said, then nodded. “Ok then. Yeah. Sure. Let’s do it.”
“I’ll see you in the morning, Carmen.”
“See you,” Carmen replied.
The handsome, clean-shaven Dwarf disappeared into the tower before closing the door behind him.
Carmen turned her head and looked back up at the stars—trying, this time, with all her heart, to see the constellation the man had pointed out in the sky.
If she looked just the right way, she could see that unicorn.
Did they not bring luck?
She hoped so. Because she needed all the luck she could get.
- - -
She and the machinist walked to the inn the following morning to eat breakfast before they began to make their way through the city streets. Mostly chatting about their childhoods and avoiding everything regarding their most recent lives, they navigated the city until they eventually came to a park—where, beneath the columns of impressive stone statuettes, they settled themselves to the ground and talked about any and everything.
Colby stated that he had been born and raised in Xandau and had been educated in the arts of machines since he was a young man. “I used to fiddle with clocks as a kid,” he said, idly fingering a piece of loose soil as he and Carmen talked beneath the sunny sky. “That eventually progressed to old pictography machines, wrenches, more clocks and then, to my mother’s horror, blunderbusses. Thankfully I could never get any of them to work, otherwise I’d’ve probably shot myself through the eye by now.”
“I studied carpentry as an elective during my studies,” Carmen replied. “I was always fascinated with how things were build, especially when they weren’t carved from stone by drills or other machines.”
“So you could build yourself a house if you wanted to?”
“If I wanted to,” Carmen said, then sighed as she thought back to her home. “I mean… I already have a home in Ehknac. I guess it’s mine now, considering that my parents are… well… you know…”
Colby sighed. “I know,” he said, then reached down to take her hand. “I’m sorry this came up.”
“No. It’s… it’s fine. Really, Colby. I—”
“I tend to say the wrong things at the wrong times,” he interjected.
“You’ve been nothing but the perfect gentlemen.”
“Is it wrong to say that I’ve been trying my hardest?”
Carmen snorted and slapped his shoulder. “You ass,” she said, then laughed as his own chorus of laughter began to fall into place. “What do you mean trying your hardest?”
“I’m really just like all the other guys.”
“Oh really?” Carmen asked. “So you’re saying you like to visit the whorehouses and get your bits in a bunch there?”
“No,” Colby replied. “It’s just that… well… I like to go after the things I want. And one of the things I’ve been interested in is… well… you.”
Carmen blushed. “Me?” she asked.
“You,” Colby said, leaning forward.
When his lips pressed against hers, she wasn’t sure what to do. The rough scrape of his stubble was maddening, yet at the same time pleasing to her senses—as if, somewhere inside her, a fire that had always existed had just been kindled anew.
Though the kiss lasted for only a moment, it was enough to take Carmen’s breath away.
As Colby drew back, a smile on his face and a delightful glint in his eyes, Carmen turned her head away, trying her hardest not to smile in response.
“Sorry if that was too sudden,” he said.
“No,” Carmen said. “You’re fine.”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since that night we first met. You’re beautiful, Carmen. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
“Would it be wrong for me to say that you’re the first man I’ve ever kissed?”
“No,” Colby said. “If anything, I’m… honored.”
Carmen smiled.
Colby reached out and took hold of her hand.
When their lips met the next time, it felt completely natural.
- - -
They spent the entire day together—talking, laughing, and having a good time. Throughout, Carmen’s troubles drifted away and her thoughts on the matters at hand began to dissipate as happiness overwhelmed her being. They held hands, kissed occasionally, held each other beneath the setting sun; and by the time she left to return to the tower, was surprised to find Stella awaiting her.
“Hello,” the woman said as Carmen approached.
“Hi,” Carmen replied, frowning as the woman scrutinized her. “Is something… wrong?”
“No,” Stella replied. “If anything, it would seem everything was right.”
“I guess,” she smiled, reaching down to adjust her shirt.
“I knew you and Colby would get along.”
“How did you—”
“You’re practically glowing, Carmen.”
“I… guess,” she said, then smiled as she entered the tower with Stella. “I take it you’ve been watching us then?”
“I saw you together in the park. I thought I’d tag along to see what the two of you were doing, but when I saw that you were intimate, I figured I’d leave you be.”
“Thank you,” Carmen said, leaning forward to wrap her arms around the woman. “I needed a day like this, especially after what’s felt like a lifetime of—”
“Hardship?” Stella asked. Carmen nodded. “Everyone needs days like those,” Stella agreed. “And regardless of whatever your conscience may say, you deserve to be happy.”
“I know,” Carmen said.
“Just remember,” she said. “If the two of you do decide to become… well… intimate, I should say, that there are ways to prevent pregnancy.”
“I know,” Carmen replied. “I’ve only known his feelings for a short while now. I don’t want to rush into anything.”
“That’s perfectly understandable—and, I think, a wise decision. Colby’s a good man though, Carmen. You’d do well by him if things work out.”
“I know.”
The two of them ascended the stairs and stepped off their landing.
Upon Carmen’s bed lay a single scroll wrapped with twine.
“Were you expecting mail?” Stella asked.
“No,” Carmen replied, taking a few steps forward. “I wasn’t. So who could it—”
She stopped.
No.
After only two days?
She reached forward, ripped the twine from the scroll, and pulled it open.
Inside was a map that detailed the farmhouse, the road leading from Dorenborough to the north, then a snaking path that cut to the west until finally it came to rest on a series of what appeared to be cave fixtures. Below was script that read, His name is Xaspraine Paddox. And you don’t have much time.
Carmen lifted her eyes.
When she passed Stella the parchment, the woman quickly read
it before raising her eyes and saying, “We have to tell Ignatius about this.”
Carmen agreed.
- - -
“So you’re telling me,” Ignatius said, “That this ‘Xaspraine Paddox’ is the one who kidnapped the people at the farmstead?”
“Yeah,” Carmen replied, gesturing to the scroll in Ignatius’ hands. “That’s what it says, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes, but just because it says here doesn’t mean—”
“I paid good money for that information.”
“Paid?” Ignatius asked.
Though unwilling to divulge Stella’s participation in the matter, Carmen detailed her search for answers and then her eventual discovery of Cabara Matthers, whom she said she met after receiving a tip from the locals. The lie—though small—didn’t necessarily matter in the here and now, but she knew it would come back to bite her in the ass if she weren’t careful.
By the time she finished, the leader of the Fifth Battalion had a calmer look on his face. “If that’s the case,” Ignatius said, “and this information was provided by someone of her caliber, then that means we have a lead.”
“Which we means we can go into the mines,” Carmen said.
“Which means,” Ignatius replied, “that we have to wait until the information is validated by a legitimate source.”
“Sir,” Carmen said, stepping forward and not backing down when the man’s eyes narrowed upon her approach. “People’s lives are at stake. We just can’t sit back and wait.”
“It’s protocol, Carmen. If ever there are bandits found upon the roads—or if their activity interferes with the dealings of the city—then a formal request must be made to the king and a force established to eliminate the problem.”
“But what does it say about hostages?” Carmen asked. “Or their potential negotiations. What then?”
“We don’t even know if there are hostages, Carmen.”
“I—”
“She’s right,” Stella said, then stepped alongside Carmen to look at Ignatius. “I hate to speak contrary to you, sir, but Carmen has a point. The longer we allow this to drag on, the more likely it is that those people might not make it back alive.”
“How do you even know they are alive?” Ignatius frowned.
