by Eve Langlais
Before he could reply, an alarm went off.
Twenty
The strident ringing of bells had Gunner rolling from Sofia and pulling up his pants. Never rush out into possible danger without trousers. It was distracting.
As he prepped himself, he held off from swearing about the poor timing of the bells. Then again, he’d kind of been expecting them. His luck wouldn’t let him down.
“What’s happening?” she asked, doing her own squirm under the sheets as she struggled to get her gown over her head.
“Something’s wrong.”
“Obviously,” she grumbled, sliding out of the bed.
The fabric covered her body down to her ankles, and yet she looked beautiful. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders. He reached for her, needing to hold her.
The door to the room slammed open, startling a cry from Sofia. A pair of guards entered, one of them opening his mouth. “The king said—”
He never finished that sentence. Gunner leaped, moving faster than they expected, ramming into the guard’s midsection. The momentum slammed them into the wall, with the guard taking the brunt of the abuse.
He oomphed and sagged in Gunner’s grip. But he wasn’t quite out. Gunner placed his hands on the guard’s head, took it in a firm grip, and bounced it off the wall. The impact sent the guard to slump senselessly to the floor.
“Stop it. I’m not here to hurt you.” The other guard held up his arm and yelled at Sofia, who kept grabbing books and tossing them.
When she ran out, she grabbed a pillow and shrieked, “Don’t you dare touch me.”
It worked surprisingly well, offering Gunner the precious seconds he needed to charge the second guard. A hard jab to the gut, an uppercut to daze him, then a knee in the gut again to get him to fold, followed by a yank to the head and an elbow to the back of the neck. The guards lay on the floor, unconscious.
“Help me.” He quickly divested the larger guard of his shirt and boots. The pants were similar enough.
The smaller guard’s tunic hung on Sofia, and the pants wouldn’t stay up, but tucking her gown in them helped.
While Gunner divested them of their weapons, she grabbed the belt off the pants of the bigger one and used it to tie the wrists the guards. It showed she was thinking and not in shock.
With them dressed and him at least armed, Gunner held out his hand to her. “Let’s go.” Before more guards arrived and made things more difficult.
The bells still rang, a discordant clanging that he hoped would distract anyone they encountered before they looked too closely at the pair of ill-dressed guards.
Entering the hall, he noticed several ornate doorways. “Where are we?” he asked as he began tugging her down the hall.
“Castle.”
“I realize we’re in the castle. Any idea of how to get out?” They’d reached the end of the hall and entered an open gallery that was more of a walkway circling around a lofty space. It was open to the floor below with a staircase down, and yet, if they followed the railing and remained on this level, across from them appeared to be a set of glass doors leading outside.
“I never saw much outside the bedroom. I don’t know how to get out.”
He’d not gotten to see much either. The guards that fetched him had hustled his ass upstairs. More concerned about Sofia, the most he’d done was glance out her window and quickly surmise they wouldn’t be going out in that direction.
“Spread out. They’re around here somewhere!” someone yelled. There was the thud of many booted feet, and a squad of men went running across the floor below, all of them armed.
Avoiding them seemed best. Gunner tightened his fingers on Sofia’s, and hugging the wall, they followed the inner circle balcony, too intent on the far end to pay much mind to the splendor displayed below.
They reached the far side and the doors, which opened onto a balcony. Only a few paces deep, it overhung the scummy river running through the city. The gray line of it separating the castle from the opposite shore gave him an idea.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
“Do I have a choice?”
The reply made him grin, and he cupped her chin. “We will get out of here. My luck’s feeling pretty good today.”
“Mine’s not.” Her shoulders rounded.
Concern filled him. “Are you not recovered from the healing?”
“If you’re asking if I’m tired, then the answer is yes.”
He glanced down at the river. “We won’t get a better chance to escape.”
“I know. And we need to leave.” She took in a breath.
Gunner glanced at the door in time to see people coming up the steps. They didn’t have long. He glanced back down at the waters sluicing past. He had no idea of the depth, but it was wide enough they’d hit it if they jumped.
“Don’t be stupid and suicidal. Step away from the edge. You don’t want to go for a swim. The river monsters aren’t kind to outsiders,” announced Roark.
Gunner glanced over his shoulder to see the king had joined them on the balcony.
“Says you.”
“Don’t believe me, then jump.” Roark waved his hand.
“We won’t jump, but we’re also not staying,” he announced.
“Why not?” the king asked. “It’s not as if you have a home to return to.”
“I’m not living in a cell fighting in your petty games. And Sofia isn’t going to be your slave.”
Roark tucked his hands behind his back. “What if I said you’d be citizens?”
“I’d say your offer comes with terms.”
The king’s expression proved aloof. “Of course, there are terms. My kingdom, my rules.”
At the claim, Gunner snorted. “I’ve been hearing about you and your rules. Anyone that doesn’t follow them gets put in a ring to fight.”
“Not just anyone. That particular honor is reserved for the truly criminal. It’s better than coddling those who don’t contribute to the greater good. We only provide support to those who can’t care for themselves. If you stay, you will be expected to provide a service.”
“And if we don’t?” Gunner asked
“Then this won’t be your home for long.”
Despite himself, Gunner admired the king’s methods. For a society to work, people had to contribute, big or small.
“What kind of jobs could we even do?”
“With your strength and skill, you could probably find security work. The castle guard is always seeking recruits, as is the City Task Force. I should mention, thieving is not tolerated nor is wanton violence against others to acquire their things.”
The guy seemed to talk a good deal, but Gunner knew the number one question that would expose him. “Sounds great, but what if a person wants to leave? What happens to them?”
“What makes you think anyone ever wants to leave?” Roark had a half-smile on his lips.
And he finally felt a push against his mind.
Leave and go where?
The pushed query echoed in his head, and suddenly, it was as if he saw a fast-paced movie in his head, one that showed him this city. Eden. Old and new, the streets full of people. Safe. Plentiful. Protected.
A nirvana for someone homeless for so long. Given the images didn’t come from him, though, it could be a lie. He closed his eyes and braced against the images.
“Get out of my head.”
“Try closing it off a bit. It’s quite distracting having you both shouting.”
As if sharing his discomfort, Sofia huddled close to him. Roark had just reminded him of his power. He’d not actually used the force of it on them yet. Not unleashed his true strength. Gunner didn’t know why, nor was he waiting to see if Roark just toyed with them. He flicked a glance to the river below them. He didn’t doubt for a moment it had monsters. The question was, which would be worse? The king in front of them or the river below?
As if reading his mind, Roark frowned. “Still thinking of jumping. Why
would you leave? I am offering you a home. A safe place. Isn’t that what you want?”
Gunner’s lips pressed into a line. “I won’t be forced.”
I haven’t forced you. Yet. Take the offer.
It was Sofia who replied. “Let us go. I did as you asked. I healed your child.”
“But we don’t know if it’s permanent. She might need more healing.” The anguished father said those words, but it was a king with a cold gaze who remarked, “I will not let you leave.”
Return to the room.
The push at his free will showed Roark’s true colors, and Gunner made a choice. He pulled Sofia close and whispered, “Close your mouth and hold your breath when we hit the water. And whatever you do, don’t panic.”
“You, idiot. Don’t jump.” Roark roared the command.
Gunner had been waiting for the moment when a mental shield would be most effective. He wasn’t good at holding them, not for long, but it was enough to ignore the command. He swung his legs over the railing, but felt Sofia resisting.
Roark growled and reached for them, his brow drawing into a mighty frown. The hammering against Gunner’s mind shield brought a wince. He could feel himself trembling with the pressure, wanting to succumb to the urge to climb back onto the balcony, get on his knees, and lace his hands over his head.
He panted as he fought the suggestion while, beside him, Sofia whimpered. “Get out. Get out. I can’t stay.”
Just as he was about ready to bend a knee, there was an explosion that rocked the castle, drawing the king’s attention. The pressure on his head eased.
Gunner didn’t waste any time. He looped an arm around Sofia’s waist, swung a leg over the edge, dragging her with him, and jumped.
Sofia’s strident scream followed as they plummeted, and he hoped she had the sense to close her mouth before they struck the water. He managed to hold on to her despite them hitting hard. He tucked her close, fear trembling in her limbs, but she didn’t thrash out of his grip. He kicked them to the surface and didn’t stop until their heads were above water where they could breathe. She gasped for air, and for a moment, he just held on and bobbed in the current carrying them rapidly. To his surprise, no one was yelling behind them. No one appeared to be in pursuit. The bells had begun to ring again, and he smelled smoke. Never a good thing in a place where people lived in close quarters.
He let the current carry them past the main part of the castle, far enough that he noted the castle was surrounded by water, the river and the channels cut into the rock forming a sort of moat.
As they left the sheer wall of the keep, they drifted into the town proper. He kicked toward the opposite side, aiming for the many docks running along the edge of the channel, the boats tied up for the night and no one guarding them. He managed to grab the wale of one. Sofia understood and gripped tight to the boat. He gave her a heave, and she tumbled into the flat-bottomed craft hard enough it rocked, and she almost tipped back in.
When it stilled, she peered over the side. “I don’t like this.”
He grinned as he clambered in with her. “We haven’t even started moving yet.”
She moaned. “Don’t say move.”
She sat clutching her stomach, whereas he went after the ropes mooring it. He then pulled the long paddle from the bottom and put it against the dock to push them into the current just as someone yelled at him.
“Fucker. Get your ass off my boat.” A corpulent fellow dressed in knee-length breeches and a stained shirt ran for them, closely followed by other angry faces.
Using the oar, Gunner pushed again against the dock to give them distance, but in a surprise move, the fellow dove and grabbed hold. Even though it threw the man off balance, he wouldn’t let go. The owner of the craft tumbled into the river, yanking the oar from Gunner’s hands. And there wasn’t another to be seen. The current caught them, and it didn’t much matter.
The river moved swiftly, and yet the boats chasing moved faster, the setting of the sun not daunting them in the least. They hung lanterns from their prows, shouted as they stroked after Gunner and Sofia, but despite the fact they had no oars or pole to move them any quicker, nor even a sail to catch the wind, those pursuing had the worst luck. A capsizing craft snarled their pursuers, giving them a chance to move ahead.
No matter how good his luck though, it seemed inevitable they would be caught, which was why he knelt by Sofia and grabbed her hands. They were cold, and she stared blankly with her eyes wide. Shock had finally hit her.
“Look at me.”
She focused on him.
“I need you to stick with me. I need your help.”
Some of the wild panic subsided. “What do you need from me?”
“They’ll probably catch up to us soon. Which means we will have to fight.”
“There’s too many of them!” she exclaimed.
“We can even the odds. Can you fire a gun?” He offered her one of the ones he’d pulled off the guards.
She shook her head. “You’re probably better off using it. I wish I had a knife.”
“Sorry, no knife, but keep in mind, you’re not defenseless,” he said, suddenly inspired. “Your magic, if it can heal, I’ll bet it can harm.”
She stared at him.
“Think of it as healing in reverse. If someone lays a hand on you, hit them with a pox, or stomach cramps.”
“We’re about to be murdered and you want me to give them runny stools?” Her nose wrinkled.
“If you don’t like that, then trying something else. Anything will help. They’re catching up to us.”
He turned from her, only to realize those chasing had halted and turned around. The river drew the boat past the city limits, and they encountered the first tendrils of a green-gray fog.
“Why are they stopping?” Gunner mused aloud. Could it be because night fell? Or something else? The fog crept closer, an ominous thing with seeking tendrils. “Cover your mouth.”
Rather than ask why, she did her best to pull the wet tunic over her mouth and nose. He did the same, but the fog thickened, permeating the fabric he used as a mask, getting into his mouth. His lungs.
He could feel his mind getting cloudy. His vision blurred. He reached for Sofia, whose eyes bulged.
He wrapped his hands around hers and got her to stare at him and not the mist. “Calm down.”
“Poison,” she croaked.
“Yup.” His body began to cramp, especially his lungs. “Use your power. You can.” He gasped for air, only it burned. “Heal.”
Her fingers tightened around his, and her gaze focused, steadied from terror to concentration. His skin heated where she touched him. His lungs eased, and he took a breath. It didn’t feel like fire being poured down his chest.
He smiled at her. “Keep doing it.”
Sofia nodded and kept the magic going, the warmth only concentrating on their chests. The fog didn’t seem to cause any other harm.
It felt like forever before the river carried them past the mist. When the air no longer tried to kill them, she released her grip and collapsed. He only just managed to catch her.
He placed her in his lap, cradling her head, the woman he’d risked everything for. The king had offered him his freedom, and yet, without Sofia, he had no interest. As far as he was concerned, he’d found his mate. The woman he’d ask to promise. The one he’d have babies with. Grow old with.
If they survived.
As the boat floated down the river, Gunner remained awake. He heard monsters that night. Big things that splashed around. Little things that squeaked when caught. Shadows flew overhead, blotting out stars, but his luck held. Their boat kept trundling along the current.
In the morning, it rained, turning the ride wet and miserable. He lifted his face and let it wet his tongue. The sun emerged in the afternoon and dried them. He used his tunic to form a shielding tent over her face. She slept still. Her breathing even, but not stirring at all. Evening fell again, and he was tired. So
tired. But did he dare fall asleep while the boat drifted to who knew where?
His luck gave him one last bump, literally. The boat snagged on something and turned sideways then stopped moving. A glance over the wale showed a chain, as the culprit, the heavy links, stretched across the river.
The horizon glowed with the last rays of the setting sun, and through the weeds lining the bank, he could see docks on either side of the river, old stone and rotted wood, almost hidden by the reeds. A place to stop for the night and finally get some rest if they could find a place to barricade.
Grabbing hold of the chain, he pulled them along, arm over arm, until they reached a dock. He wrapped a rope around a rotted post. Only once he’d secured both ends did he lift her from the bottom, keeping track of the quiet, broken by the occasional splash, the hum of insects, the rocking of the boat against the pier.
Pure silence would have meant something lurked. The trees by the edge of the river had formed a filmy canopy that hid the shore. Once he’d made his way off the pier without falling through any rotted spots, he found himself past the curtain of branches and in a village.
Several structures greeted him, reminding him of Eden, given they were mostly made of stone. They didn’t have the many more modern touches, though, that he’d seen in the city. The buildings’ roofs had ben thatched, some of them still sporting layers of reeds. Others gaped open. Unlike the ruins they’d seen their first night in the marshlands, this place had an abandoned feeling to it.
Only as he carried her through the overgrown village did he realize that it had been in use more recently than he first thought. Most of the thatches remained in decent shape. He chose one that seemed intact with its windows and doors shut tight. Inside, he found it still furnished if covered in a layer of grime. The humidity in this pace made a soft fuzz grow on many of the surfaces.
After he chased the bugs from it, he laid Sofia in the bed he found. He re-barred the door and checked the windows. He took the knife he found in a cupboard and went through every corner, starting in the bedroom. Only once he’d killed the bug population and ensured there was no other living being did he sit by the bed, knees to his chest, the weapons he’d stolen within reach.
