Once Upon a Time in Babadür

by Matthew Davis

  We make the Brotherhood pay for everything they have ever done, of course, Fela whispered.

  Emsin smiled, and a spark flashed in her eyes. “Tell me more,” she said as she made her way across the street and ducks into the tavern, “partner.”

  ✽✽✽

  The moon was high in the sky, a splinter of white bone among a dusting of gems, when Emsin emerged atop the roof of the tavern. She wore a cloak of bruised purple with a deep hood. Her eyes roamed across the sleeping city and for a time she listened only to the sounds of the night and the slow, quiet beat of her own heart as she went over the plan she and her new partner had devised. It would be the first act of what would become an on-going campaign of vengeance, a quiet war against the warlock tyrants of the Brotherhood of the Wilted Lily. The trick, Emsin had discovered, was to not think of the enormity of it all at once.

  You are nervous, Fela said and it seemed, not for the first time, as if the disembodied sorceress were in fact standing beside the young thief.

  “I would be a fool not to be.” Her hand strayed to her chest, where the gemstone hung, having been secured to a leather thong and bits of metal wire, and already she felt accustomed to its weight and the continuous warmth it emanated. “But if everything goes according to plan, and you can do all you say, it’s the Brotherhood who should be nervous.”

  We must be as specters, Emsin. Right now surprise is our greatest weapon. The warlocks know I am free again in the world, they will be expecting an assault, and they will be on guard. But they do not know I have aligned myself with you.

  “So we come at them where they won’t be expecting it.”

  Emsin looked out across the city. Sleeping Babadür. The ancient, magical city of towers and bridges. The city of warlocks and wizards and witches. Her eyes settled upon a tower that jutted out higher than the others like vicious spear reaching to stab at the heavens and strike at the moon. The barbed spire of the Brotherhood. Partnering with Fela had been simple once Emsin realized the truth of it and what it was she had been offered: power, raw and unadulterated. The power to strike back at the monsters that had haunted and ruled her city for as long as anyone could remember. The same monsters that had made orphans of her and so many others. The would-be gods that had stolen so much from so many.

  When it happened, when she agreed to the partnering, Fela had said to close her eyes and hold her breath and no sooner had Emsin done so than the sun erupted behind her eyelids and she felt again as if she were flying, hurtling through the void between the stars, herself a shining jewel among countless others spilling light into the night. It all ended as quickly as it began, but ever since that moment her step had felt lighter, as if at any moment she could spring into the air.

  “Best be off, then,” Emsin muttered to herself and stepped up to the edge of the tavern’s roof. She cast her gaze across the street to the nearest tower.

  Without thinking of what she was about to do, she leaped. For a breathless moment she felt untethered from the hold of gravity. Her cloak rippled and streamed out behind her. Were anyone to be on the street and looking upward at just that moment, it would have appeared as if a great, purple-winged bird had launched itself from the rooftop. Her hood fell back and her hair spilled free, and Emsin let out a laugh as the wind rushed over her skin. The distance had been a hundred or more feet if it had been an inch, but she made the leap in the blink of an eye and suddenly it was all she could do to reach out and grab hold of the edge of the tower across the way’s steepled top. She hit it with a thud, and then pulled herself up to perch along the edge.

  Aim higher next time.

  “Yes, thank you.” stood and dusted herself off before orienting to the next tower, and then jumped.

  It became easier each time, and soon enough Emsin was launching herself from rooftop to rooftop as easy as breathing and the night rushed by in her passage. The distance between herself and the warlock’s tower disappeared in what felt like scant minutes from when she had made her first awkward jump at the tavern. Soon, she stood upon the gilded rooftop of a flesh merchant’s estate overlooking the curtain wall that surrounded the Brotherhood’s tower and the labyrinth of thorny hedges beyond it. Down in the maze, things moved. Shadows lurked and spread with a will of their own in shapes that distorted and caused Emsin’s eyes to ache when she watched them for more than a moment.

  The Brotherhood’s sentries are many, and not all of them abominations of the strictly mortal kind. Cruel, inhuman magics guard those grounds. Look through my eyes, and see, Fela spoke inside Emsin’s mind, and as she did the world shifted.

  It was as if peculiar lenses had been placed over her eyes. Emsin’s vision took on a curious sheen. Light sources like the torch-bearing sconces around the curtain wall cast prismatic halos, and beyond the wall itself within the labyrinthine garden the shadows changed as well. Emsin saw within them shapes like lizards but with too many legs and undulating tails, their eyes bulbous and compound, gleaming with a sinister intelligence.

  You must not fail this next jump, Emsin, the sorceress cautioned. The Brotherhood called upon dark forces in anticipation of my arrival and it would be...taxing, to extricate us from such peril.

  “Don’t screw it up, got it,” Emsin said with a sharp nod, her eyes locked on the upper reaches of the tower.

  “I would say it is too late for that, child,” the voice drifted to her from behind, mellifluous and flowing like honey, but with a menace beneath it that set the hairs on the back of Emsin’s neck to standing.

  JUMP!

  Emsin reacted with a speed born of fear and hurled herself into the air, and as she went felt a wave of heat wash through the space she just inhabited. There was a strange smell in the air like after a lightning strike, and as she passed through the air she looked back to see a hooded man standing a few feet from where she had been and a smoking crater in the roof.

  Quickly now, Emsin! Strike!

  Fear, adrenaline, and something else, a white, pure anger the likes of which she had never felt before swelled in Emsin's chest and she twisted in midair, angling herself and went plummeting downward at the hooded man, drawing her curved knife as she fell. He had enough time to turn and see as she fell upon him like a comet striking earthward, amethyst light flaring to life in her eyes and gleaming along the edge of her blade. And then she struck. It sunk home hard enough for Emsin to feel the impact race up her arm as the blade buried itself to the hilt in the man’s chest. He cried out, in shock and pain and then collapsed, taking Emsin with him.

  Scrabbling to rise, Emsin staggered back, dizzy, looking from her hands to the wreckage that remained of the warlock and the hilt of her knife jutting from his chest.

  No time for that, hurry. There could be others nearby, Fela warned. Quickly now.

  With effort, Emsin tore her eyes away from the body and broke for the edge of the roof at a run. She aimed for the menacing edifice of the Brotherhood's spire. With a heave she launched into the air. She went arcing up, a dark streak in the night racing to the tower’s top where tall, narrow windows encircled the upper floor. One had recently been boarded up after being smashed out by a thief hours before. Seeing the boards, Emsin let out a cry and raised her arms, preparing for impact. There was a flare of light and a hollow boom, followed by the splintering of wood and she went crashing through the boards and the window.

  She skidded along the cobbled floor of the room and tumbled until crashing against a heavy chest with a sharp cry. Stars danced before her eyes, and for a moment she lay on floor focusing only on breathing.

  You should pay more attention.

  “You should be quiet,” Emsin gasped and pushed herself upright.

  If I hadn’t blown out those boards you would be scraping yourself off the ground down in the maze, and we would both end up in the clutches of the Brotherhood.

  “I said be quiet,” Emsin grated and stood, taking a moment to look around the room. “Please.”

  It had barely changed since her
earlier, much more daunting break-in.

  “And here we are again,” she said quietly, looking at the sprawl of treasure, the stolen wealth of Babadür, heaped and tossed carelessly in the tower’s highest room.

  Piles of coins, chests and coffers full to bursting with trinkets. Tables buried under the weight of gold and silver and precious stones. There were even the odd bit of priceless art, tapestries and statuary from bygone eras. Wealth enough to sustain a kingdom for centuries, if not longer. Wealth enough to make or break kings, and every bit of it was steeped in blood and treachery and horror. It would have been a breathtaking sight to behold, if not been for that.

  And it was that knowledge that fed the growing spark of Emsin’s anger. That knowledge which raised black thoughts within her mind. Thoughts of fire and fury.

  No, tonight we bloody their noses. Tonight we show them that we are not afraid, Fela spoke softly. Stick to the plan. We don’t have much time.

  From the floor below came raised voices, pounding footsteps. A rising sense of dread brought with it the familiar smell of lightning and violent magic. Spinning around, Emsin turned to the door. It was a heavy thing of wood banded in blackened iron. Emsin rushed over to it. It locked from the outside. The footsteps drew closer, the voices grew louder. And among them the hideous, broken laughter of Hound-Men. The sound of it chilled Emsin’s blood.

  “We need more time, Fela,” she said. “Do something.”

  What would you have me do?

  “Magic, of course!” Emsin snarled. “What kind of sorceress are you?”

  The jewel around her neck burned like an ember, searing hot against the thin leather of her tunic. Light burst from it and threw colorful sparks into the air. Purple and lavender motes of light that danced in the air. They landed on the iron of the door with a hiss. The hinges and bands of the door turned first an angry, pouring off heat, and then become a somber red, melting and fusing solid.

  Wide-eyed, Emsin looked down at the glowing jewel hanging from her neck and to the door again.

  “You and I are going to be having a very long discussion about what all it is you are capable of,” she said and turned from the door, unclasping her heavy cloak as she went.

  If we survive the night, Fela said, we will also be discussing your tone.

  Ignoring the last bit, Emsin cleared out a space on the floor and spread her cloak out just as pounding came from the other side of door. More voices, along with howls and barking. Ignoring the commotion, Emsin began tossing handfuls of coins and jewels and other valuables onto the cloak.

  “You are absolutely certain you can do this?” she asked as she worked.

  With the blessing of my magic you will be tireless, as the night’s journey has already proven, and have the strength of a dozen strong men.

  “Yes would’ve sufficed.”

  The pounding faded for a moment, but just as quickly a thunderous detonation came from the door and echoed through the room. Startled, Emsin turned from her task to see cracks forming in the door, and the stone of the wall where the hinges were set. The warlocks were going to break the door down. Heart racing, Emsin turned back to see how much treasure she had gathered. It was a pittance compared to the vast hoard that remained, but it would have to be good enough.

  She began bundling the cloak and then produced a length of cord to tie it all together into a sack that she hefted and slung over her shoulder. True to Fela’s word, the burden felt as if it weighed no more than a bushel of groceries from the market.

  “Best to be making our exit, then,” Emsin said before shrugging the sack into a comfortable position and then headed to the busted out window, settling a foot on the ledge.

  Another crack of thunder tore through the air of the treasure room, followed by the splintering of wood and crash of stone. Emsin turned to look over her shoulder in time to see a crowd of men and Hounds crowding through the doorway amidst a cloud of dust as the wreckage settled.

  “Stop her!” one of the warlocks screamed.

  A Hound-Man howled.

  An arc of lightning tore across the room.

  And before it struck, Emsin flashed a grin, waved, and leapt out the window.

  ✽✽✽

  In the morning, as the sun rose into the sky above slumbering Babadür, its towers slowly painted by the light, the tower of the Brotherhood of the Wilted Lily was silent and somber. Its high windows were dim, its occupants nowhere to be seen shuffling about inside on their insidious errands. And as the merchants of the lower-city opened up their shops, and children ran through the streets, hooded figures could be seen here and there, nailing parchment to posts and doors, depicting the image of a dark eyed, dark haired young woman who could, truly, have been any of a thousand who dwelt within the city, save for the sharp, cunning smile that split her face like a sliver of moon. The signs proclaimed her a thief, and also offered an outrageous bounty for information of her whereabouts or capture. But the citizens ignored the hooded men, and paid no heed to the signs.

  For some time in the night, all across the slums of the lower-city, tiny packages had been left on window sills and doorsteps, dropped down chimneys and placed atop stairways. The packages all contained fistfuls of coins and gems. Enough to take care of a family comfortably for months. Of the gift-giver there was no sign, but whispers began to spread, as they had a habit of doing among those who dwelled in the shadows of the gilded towers. Whispers of a dark haired, dark eyed young woman with a sharp smile who flew along the rooftops like a bird, passing lightly and silently, delivering gifts before moving on.

  "Bless her," the baker said to the cobbler. "And damn the Brotherhood, anyway."

  "I saw her," a small girl with wide eyes whispered to her friends as they gathered on some steps, sharing a loaf of bread. "Her eyes were the color of a lotus blossom, I swear, and they shone like gems."

  "She's a goddess, come to free us from the warlocks and make them pay for their thousand year reign of nightmares," said the tavern-keeper to his neighbor as he swept his porch.

  And sitting above on the edge of the tavern’s roof, stretching her legs, Emsin struggled to contain herself, clasping a hand over her mouth to hold in a fit of laughter.

  Word certainly travels fast, Fela said.

  For a moment, there on the rooftop watching the sun climb over the towers of the city, Emsin imagined the sorceress sitting beside her, sharing the same view and watching as the people passed by below whispering of the thief in the night. Of the giver of gifts. For a moment, she could almost feel Fela there beside her. Feel her presence, her power and strength.

  "Yes, well, it’s not every day do the people of Babadür have much to be thankful for," Emsin said and smiled as she watched a pack of children go tearing down the street below. "Thank you, by the way."

  Thank you, Emsin. You could have tossed me in the river, after all.

  "I like this arrangement much better." Emsin rose from the ledge and dusted herself off, stepping lightly away. "Speaking of which, what's our next move? I think we have the Brotherhood's attention, now."

  Most assuredly. First we bloodied their nose, next we send them reeling. They are powerful, and the path to their destruction will be long, and not without peril.

  "I know." Emsin nodded.

  Good. Then our next order of business will definitely be getting you a new outfit, the sorceress said with a hint of laughter tinting her voice. It will not do for the city's savior to conduct her business in rags. And another thing, if I may?

  "I doubt I could stop you," Emsin said.

  You’re going to need a mask.

 

 

 
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