by Jeff Kish
“So… they’re doing this in spite of alleged Valvoran superweapons?” Di reluctantly concludes.
“Diamond, I know you think of me as a warmonger, but you would call me a pacifist if you were to meet the Allerian prince,” he says. “He has long been my peer on the enemy side, and I could argue that I know him best of anyone. He is making a statement. He’s either boldly daring us to use these alleged superweapons, or…”
Opal eagerly raises his hand. “Or maybe they have their own runics?”
Graff remains stoic. “If there are runics on both sides, then we can take nothing for granted. You two are suddenly much more mortal.”
Di’s breath gets short as she imagines fighting an Allerian runic amidst the chaos of a ghastly battle: an enemy runic’s powers enhanced by the commands of a conductor, and an elemental sword piercing her own chest, just as her air-shaped blade has pierced so many victims.
Opal looks across to Di, who has lost some color. “You alright there, Diamond? You don’t look so good.”
Graff places his arms behind his back. “You had best ready yourself, Diamond. You will be leading many soldiers into battle, and they must not see fear in your eyes.”
“Then command me to be brave,” she argues.
“I’ll remind you once again, Diamond, that my commands can never account for all possibilities. You must grow strong apart from me, so together we can be strong enough to protect this nation.” He opens the door and says, “That is all I have for you today. I’ll send word immediately once we locate the traitor.”
Graff exits with a sense of urgency, and Opal gives a glance to Di, whose trembling is visible. He hurries from the room, leaving his shaken partner to deal with her growing fears.
* * *
An incessant poking stirs Era from his deep slumber. Through sleepy eyes, he sees Jem’s disapproving face staring back at him. He immediately shuts his eyelids and rolls away.
“Glad we’re back to normal,” Jem mutters as she readies her foot over his side. “Shall I wake you up the old-fashioned way?”
“Ugh… no,” he gripes as he sits in defeat. Recalling the events of yesterday, he asks, “How are your injuries?”
Jem cringes and rubs her side. “They weren’t messing around. Wanted to know how I knew Luk and why I was after him, but they didn’t care for my answers. Gave me some nasty bruises.”
“I guess we should be grateful they didn’t do worse,” he says, recalling the painful-looking contraptions he saw in the dungeon. He yawns, stretches, and finds the sun halfway risen in the morning sky. “Hey, it’s late.”
“Yes, it’s late!” she sneers. “And your friend is also late.”
“My friend?”
“Fireboy!” She dangles the chains still attached to her wrists in front of his face. “I want these off, even more than I want information on what’s-his-name.”
Era glances around, knowing they’re well-hidden among the trees. “Maybe he can’t find us?”
“Unlike you, I’ve been productive. I’ve been scouting the town from the edge of the woods since sunrise. There’s a lot of activity down there, but no one has approached us.”
Era gets to his feet. “He’ll come. Let’s go watch for him,” he says as he starts walking.
“What makes you so sure of that?” she asks. “That monster is a power-crazed megalomaniac! He could strike up a fight with you on a whim.” Her mind replays the horrific display of Garn disintegrating his opponents, and her skin grows clammy. “Maybe we should just leave, Era.”
“Leave? Why?”
“He just gives me a bad feeling.” As she thinks back, she asks, “Did he say you… you ripped a man’s fingertips off? With your earth shaping?”
Era’s heart sinks. “I-I’m sorry, Jem. It was just the skin, I swear! I had to do it. To save you.”
She stares at her hand. “I’ve never seen a person get shaped. Didn’t even know it was possible.”
Her partner stops and turns to her. “Jem, the more I accept that I’m a rune, the less limitations I seem to have. My opponent and I were dueling with earth swords, and when our blades touched, I felt his weapon. I felt his fingertips. I’m more aware of how far the element extends. My shaping skills… They’re improving every day.”
Jem glances to her severed chains, cleanly shattered by Era’s earth blade. “So I’ve noticed.”
“It’s almost like… I’ve always been working with sticky clay, but now I’m using loose sand,” he explains. “I can make the earth do whatever I want. Especially that dried adobe they use.”
“But, Era, I’m scared of what this power is doing to you,” she says. “You said some scary things last night! I don’t want you to forget who you are.”
“But Jem, I don’t know who I-”
“Shut up about that, already!” she shouts. “I’m sick of you saying that. You’re ERA. You’re a loyal and kindhearted, though often misguided, adventurer who wants to be the best thief there is. Whatever that means. This whole ‘runic’ thing doesn’t change that.”
His eyes are unyielding. “Yes it does, Jem.”
“Why? Why can’t you be Era? Why does this have to change who you are?”
He resumes his march. “You’re human, Jem. You can’t possibly understand.”
“So help me understand,” she pleads as she chases after him. “We’re partners, Era. We don’t abandon each other, no matter the circumstances. How many times do I have to shove such a simple concept into your stubborn head?”
“Hey, I risked my life to save you last night,” he points out. “What exactly do I not understand?”
“That I want to save you,” she answers. “You always want to save your friends. Let me return the favor, Era. Let me help you stay who you are throughout all this.”
Though he wants to argue, Era lets out a sigh and says, “Do what you want, Jem. I just… I don’t see the point.”
Jem crosses her arms as a sad grin forms. “Any chance your fake father has some wisdom for us in all this?”
Era is surprised to find an adage float to mind. “Once he told me, ‘Your true personality is whichever one wins the hearts of the ladies.’”
She bursts into laughter. “He actually… He actually said that?”
“As much as any fabricated father can say something.”
Jem composes herself and pats him on the shoulder. “Hey, if there’s one thing I can guarantee, it’s that the Era I’ve long known has the best chance of winning the hearts of the ladies.”
He shrugs. “Never worked with you, though I guess it worked with Pearl.”
“Yeah, she really laid one on you before the barracks raid. Which is surprising considering you two never-” Jem’s demeanor abruptly shifts, and she eyes him suspiciously. “Say, you never did give me any details about your private sky boat ride.”
Blushing, he points and says, “Whoa, it’s Garn!”
Jem yanks her rune blade from her pocket in alarm. “I drop my guard for two minutes,” she complains as she faces their visitor tromping through the thin woods. “How did you find us?”
“Your shouting carried all the way to the city gate!” he answers in amusement.
Era sighs. “I’m glad Fire isn’t around to hear that.”
Garn reaches into his pocket and brandishes a rusty key. “Ta-da!”
Jem cautiously pockets her deactivated weapon. “You actually came through,” she says with disbelief as she snatches it. “I take it you came alone?”
“Of course! I can’t be seen helping a Valvoran and his… well, whatever you are,” he says as he eyes Jem. “Even if they did witness you and the ESB taking out a commander.”
“We took out a commander?” Jem asks in disbelief.
“Yep, that wind maker you battled was Commander Tulate! Needless to say, the bosses were delighted to take him prisoner.”
Era scoffs aloud. “Sorry, Garn, but I’ve fought with a Valvoran commander. That wimp was no comparison.”
“I’m telling you, you defeated a commander. Sliced his sword in two, no less! Another legendary ESB feat.”
Jem opts not to correct his misinterpretation as she pops one of her shackles off. “Yeah, the ESB is amazing.”
“That was really one of your four commanders?” Era asks, still refusing to believe it.
Garn’s brow furrows. “Four? Is that all Valvoren has?” Beaming, he brags, “Our military has nine commanders over here.”
“Nine commanders?” Jem asks in surprise. “All taking orders from your general?”
“Three generals,” he corrects. “Three commanders report to each general.”
“That’s a lot of brass for one military,” Era comments. “Maybe that’s why he was weaker than the commander in Valvoran. So the generals report to the king?”
“The prince, actually,” he says. “The king is still alive, if you want to call it that. He survived the war but sustained heavy injuries in the last battle, which have slowly eaten away at his health. He’s been bedridden for three years and speaks mostly nonsense these days, or so the rumors go.” With a shrug, he adds, “Either way, the prince has long been the major general of the military, even dating back to the last war.”
“Oh, I remember Ospif saying something about that,” Era recalls. “The prince lost the war, right?”
“I mean, I guess that’s true,” he cringes. “Word has it that he was outwitted in one of the final battles, when Alleria was pushing into Valvoran lands. So you could make that argument.”
“Yeah, I heard he’s not too happy about the treaty,” Era remarks. “So he’s still in charge of the military?”
“Yes, but, since the king’s role is diminishing, he has growing control over internal affairs. He’s the one who wants to take Krypta’s influence down a notch.”
“He must want it badly if he’s sending a commander after you,” Jem comments as she frees her second hand.
“This was supposed to be a warning shot,” Garn explains. “They practically announced this attack was coming, which gave Corpit and the others plenty of time to flee. By all rights, the Krypta forces left behind were supposed to be sacrificial, but at the last minute our scouts reported the incoming force was smaller than expected. They must have thought a commander would earn a quick surrender from our thinned forces. The Fireman and I were sent to bolster our forces and give the commander a match.” He snaps his fingers with a wink. “Eh? Match? Get it?”
Era scratches his head. “I guess we ruined your plan.”
“Eh, it all worked out.”
“So did you get Corpit’s location?”
“Yep! I had to pull some strings, though it helped that I saved everyone at the base. Errr… well, everyone who was still alive after the initial assault, anyway,” he realizes.
“So where is he?” Era asks impatiently.
“Gantz,” he replies. “It’s a town about a hundred miles to the south and east.”
“A hundred!?”
“Yep! It’s another Krypta stronghold. Pretty close to the border, too.”
“Well that’s just great,” Jem growls. “So after hiking another four days, how do we enter a Krypta stronghold without getting assaulted?”
“It’ll be much easier in Gantz,” Garn says. “Just find the kajoni. I guarantee he’ll be in there, and no one will think twice about you asking to see him.”
“What’s a kajoni?” Era asks.
“It’s a game house,” Garn answers.
Era glances to Jem and asks, “And what’s a game house?” She shrugs.
Garn shakes his head in disbelief. “What do Valvorans do for fun, anyway?”
He shrugs. “I mostly steal stuff.”
“Yeah, and beat down commanders!” Garn exclaims. “Anyway, you’ll find it easily enough, just look for the main draw of the town. When you do, ask around for Corpit. Getting an audience may be a challenge, but you seem plenty capable.” He extends a hand to Era and says, “It’s been a pleasure, ESB. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Era shakes his Allerian ally’s hand. “You’re not so bad, Garn. I’m sorry for burying your mentor.”
“Actually, I’d say the Fireman needed the ego-dampener, but he’s already blaming faulty building construction for his defeat. Go figure.” He turns to leave and shouts, “See ya, ESB! And whatever your name is!”
“He’s so charming,” Jem says in annoyance as he disappears. “I don’t ever want to see that bipolar, murdering pyromaniac again.” Suddenly, her ears pick up on a faint sound, and she again withdraws her rune, activates it, and marches toward a tree.
“Jem?” Era calls as he trots to catch up.
She swings around the trunk and holds her blade at the ready. “And to think I was just about to ask Era where you were, you useless sack of flesh.”
“Vulgar Allerian,” Ospif gripes. “Put that dangerous marvel of technology away! Or are you still flaunting it?”
“Ospif!?” Era cries in shock. “What in the… You should be long gone!” He shoos with his arm and barks, “Get lost, already!”
Jem is incredulous as she deactivates her blade. “Wow, since when are you so hard on this sap? I thought that was my role.”
“He abandoned you, Jem,” Era explains. “Took off the minute things got rough.”
Ospif is timid in his response. “I sought you out because I… well…” He gets on his knees and plants his forehead against the ground. “I beg your forgiveness! Please allow me to remain in your company.”
“Of all the…” Era grumbles at the low-bowing royal. “You have the gall to feign sorrow over your actions? Never once have you shown concern for anyone but yourself!”
Jem places a hand in the air. “Okay, Era, reality check. We kidnapped this windbag and dragged him to a foreign nation. What could possibly give him concern for our well-being?”
“He also said you and other Allerians aren’t human,” he seethes.
She raises an eyebrow and looks down at Ospif. “Must be painful to beg an inhuman Allerian for help.”
“H-He is taking my words out of context!” he insists.
“Oh, is there a context where that becomes a compliment?” Era inquires.
Jem steps between them. “Look, he’d have been burnt to a crisp had he come,” she offers. “The only reason you survived is because you’re… gifted.”
“So now you’re defending him?”
“So now you’re not? You’re the one who let him tag along until now.”
“That was a mistake.”
“No, Era,” she says, a longing in her voice, “you were being you, the Era who rescued Di. The Era who allied with Fire. The Era who invaded the military barracks! The Era I know and miss.”
Era’s nostrils flare as he fights the urge to punch Ospif in the nose. Yet, Jem’s words penetrate his spirit, and it strikes him just how different his reactions have been to recent events. Ospif has been a bother at every turn, but, until now, Era has always been the first to show compassion. He bites his lip as he wonders again where free will ends and programming takes over. “Fine,” he says at last, “you’re really okay with this? Even after what he said?”
“Oh yes. I want this oaf to long remember that he owes his life to an Allerian,” she snidely boasts while lightly kicking his arm. “Get up and face your savior. Tell me what you think of me now.”
He rises and forces, “You are… a unique specimen among an otherwise deplorable people group.”
“Ugh, I guess that’s the closest to gratitude I’ll get,” she mutters as she digs the map from her bag. “Still, you should know that we’re not marching toward the Academy anymore.”
“I was prepared for such a scenario,” he says. “Beggars cannot be choosers, as the saying goes. Even if his reputation is disgraceful, I shall hope Corpit will sympathize with a fellow scholar and provide me with transport home.”
Jem studies the map and mumbles to herself, “We could take this ro
ad, but it’s not exactly direct. Plus we should avoid being visible…” After a few moments of quiet contemplation, she stuffs the map away and says, “Well, it’s a bit rocky, but I’ve found our path. Let’s hit the trail! I don’t want this slimy Krypta boss to make another move before we can get to him.” She heaves her backpack to her shoulder and offers Era a warm smile before leading the way from the wooded area, and Ospif scrambles to follow.
Era grabs the satchel gifted by Fire, wishing she had been here to balance his partner’s naively optimistic view of his condition. Jem continues to insist that he remain unchanged, yet, as he watches the two walking masses of elements before him, he can feel his attitude perpetually slipping. And he’s unsure whether he can do anything to stop it.
Chapter 14
The chilly air causes Jem to shudder as they march along the dirt road. “Alleria sure is colder than Valvoren. I didn’t expect that.”
“You didn’t?” Ospif asks in disdain. “Have you any idea how weather works?”
“Valvoren and Alleria are right next to each other! Why would they have different weather patterns?”
“That has to do with the Blue Beltway driving air pressure differentials,” he explains. “The strong easterly winds dump precipitation into our lands. The Allerians have a much drier climate, but it is equally warm or cold by season.”
Jem glares at Era. “Why did I convince you to bring him along, again?”
Her partner shrugs. “You had your chance. This one is your fault.”
“I know, I know,” she complains, though she enjoys that they can banter like this. She feels as if an eternity has passed since they traveled the open road with a light-hearted attitude. Since leaving Stayltin two days back, the terrain has grown rocky, and the plains turned to hills. The paths wind between the rock formations unlike anything she has seen in her travels within Valvoren. “Seeing the world like this sure brings some unique experiences.”
“It does,” Era agrees. “Alleria isn’t nearly as strange as I thought it would be.”
