by Jeff Gunzel
She glanced back up at her warped reflection and smiled a chilling, determined grin. “You should have killed me.”
Feeling empowered, she turned away from the basin and headed back down the hall. The time had come. As she walked, she visualized herself moving through Shadowfen’s keep as she had done so many times before. Pictures of kings and queens, the leaders of years past, had stared back at her in judgment. How could she ever live up to their expectations? But the idea seemed so absurd to her now. Who were they to judge her? They were but a product of their society, puppets in motion providing the illusion of leadership while others pulled the strings. It was all but an act. This she now knew all too well. Real leaders cared about their subjects. That was the kind of leader she wanted to be.
She worked her way up the stone steps, the stairway lined with spiritists standing guard. Each acknowledged her as she passed, a hand rising to their heart as they bowed their heads. A blast of cold air blew her hair as one opened the door for her at the top of the steps. She stepped out to see mounted ravens in rows, each carrying a single rider. There were hundreds of them, maybe more. Lightning flashed constantly in the distance, illuminating snow-peaked mountains miles away. She spotted Rishima at the head of the formation, mounted on her black raven, and marched over to her.
“Are you certain about this?” Rishima asked one last time, unable to hide her look of concern.
In response, Bella leaped up behind her in a single jump. She wrapped her arms around Rishima and kissed the back of her ear. “I’ve never been more ready in my life. What are we waiting for?”
Rishima smiled and looked off into the distance. “We ride through the night!” she called out to the sound of cheers. Screeches filled the air as the ravens took flight. Hundreds of them launching, they looked like a colony of bats fleeing a cave. Humans looked up from the town streets below, jaws gaping open at the spiritists taking flight. The sky fluttered with giant birds; practically their entire force was leaving at once. What was going on to require such a force? The townsfolk knew something big was going on.
*
Ghostly white forms stood shoulder to shoulder at the volcano’s entrance. Longing to leave their fiery prison once and for all, the ghatins shifted and swayed against each other. The occasional black slit formed against a pasty white canvas, revealing wide, toothless grins. Bright pink eyes stood out against featureless faces, scanning about eagerly as the excitement began to build. They had her now. They knew the girl’s location and nothing was going to stop them from capturing her. The ritual had to be completed.
Too long had they known a world of fire and ash. Too long had they been held captive by this ancient curse. And now after waiting for centuries on end, their freedom was so tantalizingly close they could almost touch it.
Dark-red hydrogriphs stood perfectly still as bags were fastened around their bodies. Obedient, spellbound, they served as nothing more than tools in the ghatins’ plans. With a series of harrowing screeches that echoed down the chasm, leathery wings beat the air as the great beasts took flight. Soaring from the mouth of the cavern, light sprinkles of ash floated down behind them.
With a savage roar, the first ghatin melted down into the dusty trail. Its body now existing between two dimensions at once, the white lump sped away into the night. Others followed, melting into the ground and dashing off through the invisibly sealed entrance. Like an army of white stones blazing across the sand, they cut through the desert in search of the chosen one whose final breath would release them once and for all.
The chosen one needed to die. Viola needed to die...
Chapter 13
Clink... Clink... Clink...
Awakening, Nald blinked while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Clink... Clink... The sound coming from the hall seemed to be moving away at a slow pace. Rolling off his bed, he tiptoed over to the doorway and peeked out from his room. There he saw Viola moving down the hallway, tin cup in hand. With each step she tapped it lightly against the stone wall. Clink... Clink... Before he could speak, he noticed Kalmton peek out from his room on the other side of the hall, no doubt woken the same way he was. They glanced at each other with a shrug and began to follow.
At the end of the hall, Viola stepped through the doorway and entered her own room. “Viola?” said Nald, peeking his head through her doorway. Salina was there as well, sitting on her bed with her back wedged into the far corner.
“What was all that about?” Kalmton peeked up over Nald’s shoulder.
“Come in here, both of you,” Salina said, a tightness in her tone.
“Why did you wake us up?” Kalmton asked. “Have you gone crazy? We need to sleep, and you do too. You know what tomorrow is.” Indeed they did. No reminder was necessary.
“Tell them,” Salina said, glancing towards Viola as her face darkened, her expression grave and deadly serious. “Tell them what you told me.”
“Tell us what?” Nald asked, taking a seat on the corner of the bed.
“At first, I wasn’t really sure how to handle this,” Viola admitted. “But as the appointed leader of our group, I will not stand by and do nothing. I’ve done that for too long already.” She paused, wanting to choose her next words carefully. “The king and I shared words before I took Umoro’s life.” Instead of careful, she chose to be blunt and forthright. They were running out of time and she could no longer drag her feet regarding this uncomfortable subject. “He outlined my future role here in the pit, and outlined yours as well. In doing so, he assured me that none of you have a role. Not a permanent one anyway.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Kalmton asked.
“It means that the three of you are nothing more than sheep being led to slaughter,” Viola answered. “And any other humans sent to the pit from this day forward will meet the same fate. Your deaths are guaranteed because it benefits the king. My survival is guaranteed for the exact same reason. You are my human shields and have been since the first day we arrived. People come from everywhere to watch blood being spilled. Humans are cheap and plentiful, whereas I am unique. From the king’s point of view, the decision was an easy one.”
The room went silent as the reality of her words sank in. The more they thought about it, the more obvious it became. If Viola was the main draw, why did they put them all together? It was just as Viola said. They were human shields sentenced to protect her, all the while giving the illusion that they might actually win if they fought hard enough. Of course, they just might survive the next challenge, or even the one after that. But there was no end in sight. They would fall eventually. And that was when new humans would be brought in and trained. Then they too would eventually meet the same fate. The gory cycle would repeat forever.
“Why would you even tell us this?” Kalmton asked after a time, his voice so soft they could barely hear him. “What good can possibly come from telling us that it’s all been for nothing? Why warn us of our impending deaths when there is nothing we can do to stop it? How can you be so cruel?”
“Have you forgotten my promise already?” Viola asked, her eyes hard as steel. She was different now. They could see it plain as day, in her expressions, her voice, even the way she carried herself. That charming, innocent twinkle in her eyes was long gone. This was not the same person anymore. This was someone else entirely. But it was too early to tell whether or not that was a good thing.
“You told me we came here together and we’re going to leave together,” Kalmton said.
“That’s right,” Viola said as she nodded. “I’ve been forced to kill two people since we arrived here. Nothing I do can ever take that back. I’m a murderer.” Eyes fell to the floor at her stunning admission. She really was being brutally honest with them, sharing her innermost thoughts. “So what makes my life more valuable than any of yours? The way I see it, if I can save three lives, at least that’s one small step towards making amends for what I’ve done. No, I will never forgive myself, but I must find a way to live with m
y demons. As your leader, I am responsible for all of you. I didn’t ask for this, but the burden is mine nonetheless. I take that seriously.”
“So what would you have us do?” Nald asked.
“First, I would have you trust me,” Viola replied. All three nodded, giving her their full attention. Whether she realized it or not, she had earned their trust some time ago. Viola rose from the bed, standing tall before them. She picked up a small pebble near her feet and shook it as she spoke. “Ozryn has done exactly as he was instructed to do. He taught us how to fight, how to defeat an opponent one on one. That was his job. What he didn’t do was teach us how to fight as a team. That was never the plan. The plan was to have each of you put up a good fight for a bloodthirsty mob, then die as individuals. Well, I say we disappoint them. Again, do you trust me?”
“Yes,” said all three at once.
“Good. We’ve lost more than half the night already. Let’s not waste any more time.” Viola stepped over to the wall, her white pebble in hand. Only half aware of what she was doing, she began to write. The others gathered closer, watching as she tapped away on the stone wall, pulling up memories of old battle tactics. As the pages of her books flipped open in her mind’s eye, she began to construct a plan.
*
It was late morning and the party was gathered round a table in the inn’s front room, eating a brunch of eggs and ham. All except Xavier, that was. Today was the day. The mood was glum as they ate in silence. Eyes flickered towards the steps, wondering if Xavier was ever going to come down and join them. This had been the norm as of late. Some days he didn’t leave his room at all, except of course in the evening when he could wander over to one of the many city taverns. Those that would still allow him entry, anyway.
“I’m going up to get him,” Thatra said, breaking the silence as she stood.
“Leave him be,” Owen muttered, tracing a fork in circles around his plate.
“No, I will not leave him be,” she shot back, nearly tipping her chair when she kicked it. “Enough is enough! I’m not going to sit by while Xavier crawls into a bottle waiting to die. I’m not like you,” she hissed at Owen, raising a finger. “I know what you’re capable of on the battlefield. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. But when it comes to matters of the heart, or dealing with those closest to you, all I see is a coward!” But when Liam tried to interrupt her tirade, Owen cut him off with a raised hand.
“Go on then,” Owen said quietly. “Speak your mind, Thatra.” Both Assirra and Jarlen lowered their heads, staring down at their mostly full plates. They hadn’t been with the group long enough to get involved.
“How long are you going to pretend nothing is wrong?” Thatra asked. “Perhaps it’s just a phase, yes? Maybe he will just beat this on his own without your help or anyone else’s? Are those the lies you tell yourself so you can sleep at night? As I recall, you didn’t hesitate to interfere when he and Viola were getting a little too close for your liking. And now that he really needs you, you just look the other way? Oh, sure, his problem will go away eventually, unless you plan on burying him with the bottle. He can’t drink anymore once he’s dead!” With that, she turned and stormed up the steps.
When Liam stood to follow, Owen grabbed him by the wrist and shook his head. “Just let her do what needs to be done,” he said, head hung with shame in his eyes. “Everything she said be true. I took that boy under my arm and trained him, believing he may one day take my place. Somewhere between the training and hunting creatures of the night, he became a man. I was so caught up in our travels, in what we were achieving together, that I hadn’t even noticed. She is right, you know. I’ve turned a blind eye for far too long.”
“Looking backward is the easy way to see one’s mistakes,” Liam said, slowly retaking his seat. “But it’s also a window into lost time. There is nothing we can do about it now. In this, we all share equal guilt. What matters now is how we deal with the lad moving forward.” Owen sighed and nodded his agreement.
***
Knock...knock... “Xavier?” Thatra said, ear pressed to his door. “Xavier,” she repeated, louder the second time. No answer. “I’m coming in,” she warned, suspecting she might have to break down the door. But it was unlocked and she was able to walk right in. She saw him sitting in the corner, staring at the opposite wall with both hands wrapped around the neck of a dark bottle. She approached him slowly, carefully, as if trying not to frighten away a wild bird. “Xavier, I need you to give me that,” she said, cautiously reaching for the bottle.
“I need this,” he whispered, fingers tightening around it. Eyes still fixed on the far wall, it was as if he were speaking to some unseen ghost.
“No, you don’t. What you need to do is give that to me. I just want you to—” He sprang to his feet, then plowed right through her one-armed attempt to stop him. “Xavier, please! I’m just trying to help you! Everyone is so worried about you.”
He rushed to the basin in the second room and stood over it, gazing down at his reflection. Thatra was still shouting, but he could hardly hear her now. He popped open the bottle, the strong aroma quickly filling the small room. He passed it under his nose twice, taking in the biting scent. “I need to do this,” he said quietly, his words meant only for himself. The bottle glugged in his hand as he poured, the dark liquid splashing down into the water, scattering his reflection. When the last drops trickled out, he flipped the bottle upside down and threw it, shattering it against the far wall.
A set of hands wrapped around his chest from behind. “I know that was hard,” Thatra said, holding him close. He turned to face her, accepting his friend’s embrace.
“I should have done it long ago. Everyone has suffered because of me.” He began to tear up, his arms tightening around her. “It’s all my fault. Everything is my—”
“Nothing is your fault,” she said, stroking the back of his hair. “Trust me, nothing you could do would ever drive your friends away. We are here for you. Don’t you dare forget that.” They both stiffened at the sound of a bell. The sound chimed through the streets outside, each steady ring like a dagger through their hearts. Thatra looked down at Xavier, now fighting tears of her own. “And now we must both be strong for our friend.”
***
The others waited at the table, watching as excited folks rose from their chairs and hurried out into the streets. They could hear cheers and laughter coming from outside the inn. Smiling people passed by the windows, all making their way towards tied horses and parked wagons. Seeing all those lit-up faces might make one assume a holiday was upon them, as opposed to the bloody event about to take place.
“I’ll ready the horses,” Owen muttered, rising from his seat. He was already wearing his black body armor, the small crossbows at his shoulders covered with loose cloth. If anyone saw those, there was a good chance he might be recognized. But he wasn’t going to the pit without his gear either, so he had to risk it. Halfway to the door, he turned back at the sound of two pairs of boots thumping down the steps. “How ya feeling, boy?” he asked. Xavier’s eyes were slightly red, but he didn’t have the look of someone who had been drinking hard. That was a good sign.
“I’m ready,” he replied. “Look, I owe you all an apology. I know I haven’t been easy to live with these past few weeks. I just need you to know—”
“Enough,” Owen grunted, raising his hand. “There are enough apologies to go around ten times, and I be at the front of that line. But there is no time for ‘em now. You know what we got to do.”
“You’re right,” Xavier said with a sigh. “Then let’s get on with it.”
After gathering the horses, they trotted through the crowded streets and out through the gate. Wagons rolled along while horses clopped up the long, winding hill. Unlike the last events, this was not to be a high-priced affair exclusive to only those with status and fat coin purses. This event was open to the public, free of charge. King Milo wanted all to see his new pet in action, to witness her firs
thand so word of her tenacity could spread to neighboring cities.
Knowing he was sitting on a fortune in the making, the king saw no reason to rush anything. Soon enough, coin would be flowing like water. All he had to do was be patient.
*
Kalmton’s hands trembled as he sat in the corner. He shook them out periodically, flexing his fingers to keep the blood moving. But the moment he stopped flexing, they began trembling again. Sweat trickled down his brow and he constantly shifted sitting positions, unable to stay comfortable for more than a few seconds.
Nald stood at the center of the room, sword in hand as he practiced his forms. It wasn’t like he was going to improve any more during this final hour. He just needed to find a way to occupy his mind, to help distract himself from the inevitable. The time was drawing near and it was almost too much for him to bear. Eagle’s nest flowed into dancing winds. Bubbling creek melted seamlessly into wandering spirit. Despite being so nervous, his technique was flawless. Astounding, really, given the relatively short amount of time he had been training. He had probably improved the most out of any of them, but it was yet to be seen if his skill set would translate into live combat. He would find out soon enough.
Viola sat in another corner with Salina at her side. Legs crossed, hands on her knees with her eyes closed, Viola breathed deeply. She visualized her lungs filling with air, chest expanding, shoulders rising with each deep breath. Then exhaled in similar fashion, long and steady as she felt her body deflate. Like the others, she was doing anything she could to stay calm and focused. Meditation was the easiest way for her to achieve that.
Salina watched her, not sure whether or not to interrupt. Everyone needed to deal with this dark reality in their own way, and Viola’s way seemed as good as any. She appeared to be quite calm, in control.
“Viola?” she dared to interrupt after a time.
