by Jeff Gunzel
Clopping up the path, she could already feel the loneliness of the open road seeping in. What am I doing? she thought to herself. I’m no hero. What can I possibly do to help her? But the nagging thoughts didn’t stop her. She was going to try. Somebody had to try! She couldn’t just sit back and let this injustice take place. Not if there was some small chance she could help Viola.
When she passed the overgrown path leading to where Jarlen had been hiding, she reluctantly stopped and hopped down off her horse. Not even knowing what she wished to find, she pushed through the brush and out into the small clearing. He was gone, just as she had instructed him to be. “Good,” she muttered, eyeing three apple cores near the tree where she had last seen him. Already swarming with black ants, they must have been there a while.
It was good that he was gone. Let him go and wander the world alone while she pushed on without him. But if it was so good that he was gone, why did she feel like crying? Reappearing from the brush, she hopped back up onto her horse and clopped on down the path. It was time to focus. She needed her mind on the task at hand. Suddenly she stopped, smiling without ever turning around.
“Do you...we...have a plan?” Jarlen asked, wandering up from behind.
Not wanting him to see her grinning like a child, she kept facing straight ahead. “Like you, I was never very good at planning things. Shadowfen is several days’ ride yet. I’m sure we will think of something before we get there.”
Chapter 7
The unlikely pair traveled on through the day, Assirra riding while Jarlen jogged beside her. For him, the measured pace was easy to maintain. Determined to make as much progress as possible, Assirra insisted they ride on without stopping, at least for the first day. Nibbling on dry rations from her bag, she largely ignored Jarlen, who wasn’t exactly pressing her to make conversation either. Both distracted by their own thoughts, neither was really in the mood to chat.
With the western sky turning a deep orange, Assirra finally decided it was time to stop. Numbness in her inner thighs and backside flared into outright pain when she hopped down from her saddle. Hobbling around just to relax her muscles, she paced back and forth while slapping at her legs. She wasn’t used to riding much at all, let alone for a whole day straight. Eventually, relief came slowly as the flaring cramps became more of a pins-and-needles tingling—till not very comfortable, but at least a more tolerable sensation.
Jarlen set down a handful of stones around a bare patch of soil and set about starting a fire. Soon, the small pile of kindling and dry leaves was crackling away. Of course, Jarlen made it mostly for Assirra. Aside from the modest amount of added light, he benefited little from the extra warmth.
Sitting near the flame with her legs crossed, Assirra munched on the food from her bag, which was little more than a combination of nuts and raisins. She hadn’t thought to pack much else, seeing as she would reach her destination within a week or so. Chomping on the tasteless mix, she now regretted that decision. The thought of not a single proper meal for days to come was a bit depressing, to say the least.
Sitting near her, Jarlen stretched over to grab a handful from her bag. She hardly seemed to notice, her eyes fixed on the small fire. With each consecutive handful, he inched just a bit closer to her. When their hips were almost touching, she scooted away.
“Do you plan to ignore me for the entire trip?” he asked with a sigh.
She spared a glance his way wearing that same neutral look. It was so hard to tell what this woman was thinking sometimes. “What is there to talk about? Do not mistake me; I’m grateful you’ve decided to help. But I need time to think. I need to come up with some semblance of a plan, preferably before we reach the city.”
“I understand. Then please allow me to ask you just one question. Answer, and I won’t bother you the rest of the evening.” A slow blink was apparently all the answer he was going to get. “Why did you send me away in the first place? Why did you turn me over to Shadowfen?”
Assirra sighed, throwing one hand up in the air. Holding a handful of nuts up near her mouth, she tossed them on the ground near her feet. “Why? Why must you do this now of all times?”
“Oh, are you too busy to answer the one question that has haunted my dreams for a decade?” He swung his body, looking around with outstretched hands. “We are in the middle of nowhere, preparing to embark on some impossible crusade. I’m here, by your side, and willing to help in any way I can. Forgive me if you think I have overstepped, but the least you can do is tell me why you betrayed me, why I was caged like some kind of wild beast!”
“Because I was afraid of you!” she blurted out, rising to her feet. After a pause, she softened her voice. “I loved you, Jarlen, but for a long time I literally feared for my life. I feared what you might do to the other tarrins if you ever lost your temper around them.”
“I would never have hurt you,” he replied, the hurt evident in his voice.
“No? Have you forgotten what you did to those merchants? You tore them apart right before my eyes!”
“I was protecting you!”
“I did not need protecting!” Assirra smacked her hands over the top of her head and spun away. “Men died because of you, because of your uncontrollable rage. Protect me? What did you honestly think was going to happen? Did you actually think my life was endangered to the point where murder was the only available option to you?”
“Well, I wasn’t about to stand there helplessly, waiting to see what they might do. You know these humans can’t be trusted.”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” Assirra asked, rushing up so they were face to face. Jarlen didn’t think he had ever seen her this angry. Probably best he stop talking.
“Your inability to control yourself has cost you everything. I am more than aware of the shortcomings of humans, but they are not as dangerous as you think. Certainly not as dangerous as you are. Greedy by their very nature, they don’t commit to anything unless they’re motivated. They are only dangerous when they have something to gain. Otherwise, they’re more arrogant than dangerous.
“You killed those men in cold blood! They weren’t going to hurt me. Humiliate me, perhaps, maybe even rough me up a bit. But that would have been the end of it and they would have lived. That is your problem: You take every conflict as some sort of personal challenge, one that must end with you as the clear victor even if it means death for another. Were you planning to spend the rest of your life proving how physically dominant you are when compared to humans? We know you are, and what has it proven? Are you better off now that your hands are stained with so much blood?
“I couldn’t keep you around me, around those I cared for. In fact, you’re just as dangerous to yourself as you are to others. For everyone’s sake I had to have you taken away. I loved you, yet I couldn’t trust you!” She pointed an angry finger in the direction of Shadowfen. “I had to lie to the humans about what I knew about you. They think those vile acts were committed by some savage child who didn’t yet know his own strength, not a grown man who knew exactly what he was doing. Not a man who was simply—” She swallowed the word, then wiped a tear from her eye. “Evil,” she finished, unable to look him in the eye.
“I am not evil,” he protested, but his weak words came out like soft air.
“I dared not tell them you were once my lover.” She winced, the pain of that admission obvious on her face. “Even with you gone from my life, I find myself still lying to cover for you. Not evil, you say? You traded the life of your own sister just to free yourself. If that was not evil, I don’t know what is.”
Viola, he thought, clasping a hand over his mouth. It was as if it had just sunk in, even though he was fully aware of what he had done. Long-suppressed memories came flooding back. Thoughts tucked into the farthest corners of his mind, hidden deep so as to never to be remembered, came surging from the shadows to assault his senses in a flood of torment. Trembling, he dropped to his knees, his eyes filled with horror. He began rel
iving those moments all over again, crystal-clear visions of pain as if it had just happened yesterday.
“Jarlen. Jarlen!” He could feel his body jerking violently, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. “What’s wrong with you? Jarlen!” A series of open-hand smacks pulled him back, brought his eyes back into focus. He looked up at Assirra confused, as if seeing her for the first time. With one hand gripping his shirt, the other poised to strike him again, she slowly lowered it. “Jarlen?” she whispered, unsure if he was with her or not.
“You’re right,” he said, his eyes wet, lips quivering with fright. “I am evil.”
“I was just angry. I-I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes you did, and it’s true. Viola!” His eyes were wide with crippling panic. “What have I done?!”
Having never seen him like this, Assirra had no idea what to do. Always so confident, so arrogant, he was suddenly just a shell of that man. What had they done to him? What had he endured to cause him to break? Pushing off his shoulder, she rose to her feet. “Wait here.” She practically ran to her tied horse and began rummaging through her bags, spilling much of its contents along the ground in the process. She sprinted back, holding an object in one hand. “Here,” she said, running towards him before sliding up on her knees.
He eyed the syringe, but shook his head from side to side. “What you hold there is a thing of the past,” he mumbled. “I no longer require that serum.” Assirra’s eyes bounced back and forth between Jarlen and the syringe in disbelief. He no longer needed his serum? Since when? What had they done to him? She had never seen him in this much pain. “You’re right, I betrayed my own sister. And now they’re going to do the same thing to her that they did to me.”
“What?” she whispered, afraid of the answer. “Do what?”
His watery eyes came into focus, a fire returning she hadn’t seen in ages. For a fleeting moment he became the man she remembered from so long ago. “We have to save her. This is my fault! I have to get her out of there!”
She cradled the back of his head and pulled his face into her chest. “We will, Jarlen. You and I together will find a way. I promise.”
* * *
Viola woke to a hand gently touching her shoulder. With only the slightest shake she bolted upright, eyes wide open as if waking from a nightmare. She could have been having a nightmare. It was hard to tell anymore, seeing as how both dream and reality seemed to blend together as of late. Neither one felt real, yet she always felt herself hoping to wake. “It’s time to eat,” said Salina, trying to force a smile for Viola’s sake. “Come on, the others are gathering. They’ll eat your share if you don’t hurry.”
“The others,” Viola repeated, more to herself. What others? She had sparred an entire day with the survivors of that ruthless test, yet couldn’t picture any of them. Only one face came mind. Those wide-open eyes, accusing, loathing her even in death. It was no more than she deserved. She knew those eyes would haunt her the rest of her days.
After she slipped on her white tunic, the two of them left the room and followed the scent of warm porridge already calling to them. Seated at the table were three men already digging into their bowls. The warrior, Viola recognized immediately. He glanced up with a sneer, then continued cracking his spoon against the bottom of his bowl. No doubt he had been hoping they wouldn’t show so he could eat their share as well.
But as for the other two, she could swear she’d never seen them before. The entire day had been lost to her, a black day stored away deep in her mind never to be fully recovered. Viola and Salina joined the men, but were wary of respecting the warrior’s space. He seemed to like the end of the table all to himself, and no one seemed to be in any hurry to challenge this.
Viola slid a waiting bowl underneath her chin and began carving out small spoonfuls. The porridge was sweet and thick, just the way she liked it.
“So you’re really the thing this whole city has been raging over?” asked the warrior, breaking the silence. He gazed at her through a veil of sandy-blond hair, the stringy strands keeping his eyes only partially visible. “Don’t look so special to me. A freak of nature? No doubt. But the real question about a thing like you is...” Moving with exaggeratedly slow, he dipped his head beneath the table. “Does a freak like you have all your girl parts intact? If so, I just might find a use for you after all.” Even though she was sure he couldn’t see anything, Viola instinctively pressed her knees together while tugging down on her tunic.
“Ignore Umoro over there,” said the man seated directly across from her. “That beast practically lives here. Every year he is sent back to the pit for one reason or another. Hell, he has been here so long he thinks he owns the place.” Umoro clicked his teeth and raised his eyebrows at Viola. She jerked her gaze away, then tried to look casual by staring down into her bowl.
“Name’s Nald,” he said, offering his hand. Even sitting down, she could see how tall he was. Nearly as tall as Umoro, but slight of build and with thick dark hair. In shaking his hand, she noticed how soft his palms were. This was not a man who had done much hard work in his day.
“Viola,” she replied, meeting his eyes intermittently. She was uncomfortable around people anyway, and in this situation it was simply impossible to make a casual introduction.
“Oh, we are well aware of who you are,” Nald replied with a wink. He didn’t seem to be afraid of her. That was something, at least. “That’s one thing the mountain over there got right.” He pointed back to Umoro. “By now, the whole city knows who you are. You’re already a legend before even competing in the pit.”
“Of course she is,” the man next to him interrupted. “They can’t believe a second of her kind has been discovered. Hell, even though I see you sitting right here, I’m not sure I believe it myself.” Reddish-blond hair slicked back into a long ponytail, this rotund man had clearly not missed many meals. His look alone proved to her once again that this was not necessarily a group of fighters. But he looked more out of place than anyone else. Who could he have been matched up with that he survived his test? An old woman perhaps?
“And this fit fellow here goes by the name of Kalmton,” said Nald, patting the man on the stomach to purposely make his soft body wiggle. Taking offense, Kalmton hooked his bowl and scooted away a spot or two down the bench.
“He doesn’t talk too much, but I wouldn’t say that’s a bad thing,” Nald continued. Kalmton shot him another look, then turned away and continued devouring his porridge. “Now that these boring introductions are out of the way, I wanted to ask you a more pressing question—the one on everyone’s mind, but they don’t dare ask. What are you, exactly? Are the rumors true? Are you the same species as the creature who fought here before you?”
Even more uncomfortable than before, Viola shied away. “If you don’t mind, I really don’t feel like talking about any of that right n— Hey...” She realized her spoon was missing. Right out of her hand, no less. “Please give it back.”
“I will, just as soon as you answer my simple question. Are you the same species as he?”
“Give her back her spoon!” Salina ordered, having seen enough of this.
“Hey!” Viola protested, her voice rising in pitch. Just like that, her bowl was suddenly gone too.
“Can you guess what got me thrown in here?” Nald asked, holding up two empty hands, fingers twiddling. Viola had seen Xavier do similar things before. Sleight of hand, misdirection, done mostly by making the spectator follow where he was looking. The eyes were just as important as the hands during these deceptions. Xavier was very good at these parlor tricks, but this man had practically swiped two separate items right out of her hands without her even noticing. Nald here was simply another level altogether.
“I might just be the best pickpocket in all of Shadowfen.”
“Stop this nonsense. Give them back to her already!” Salina shouted, rising from her seat. It wasn’t clear what the older woman could possibly do about it, but she wasn�
�t going to just stand by either.
“Fine,” Nald relented, reaching under the table to retrieve both items. “Look, we’re all in the same boat here.” He placed the spoon back in the bowl and slid them back in front of Viola. “Honestly, I wasn’t trying to start any trouble. I’m just trying to make conversation.”
“So you taunt her by stealing her food?” Salina asked, still standing as if not yet trusting that the situation had been completely defused.
“Look, I’m the one reaching out here,” said Nald. “In case you hadn’t noticed, this girl has a bit of a reputation in this city. Demon, witch, go on and choose the title of your liking. The fact of the matter is nearly everyone is frightened of her, including me!” Viola looked up at that last comment. He was making perfect sense. She had already grown used to the idea that few would ever tolerate her presence, let alone try to talk to her.
“Maybe I went about it the wrong way, but at least I was trying. Like it or not, we’re all stuck with each other until our sentences have expired or—” Nald paused. They already knew what the only other way out of here was. “We are all going to have to learn to work together.”
Nodding her understanding, Salina sat back down.
“Yes,” Viola replied. More than one confused look glanced her way. She looked up at Nald. “I’m answering your question. You asked me if I was the same species as the man here before me. Yes I am. In fact, he is my brother.” A bold admission, but one she deemed necessary at this point. Nald was right. They were all stuck here together, and any chance of survival hinged on their ability to work together. And in order to work together with as much efficiency as possible, they would have to trust one another. Trust could only be built through honesty. She wouldn’t tell them everything, but enough to prove she was on their side.
