by Jill Cooper
I raised my eyebrow. “Careful there or I’m charging you full price.”
“I'm sorry for the intrusion of your privacy. You know how sensitive the ministers are about those rebels.”
Rebels? I’d heard rumors, but I’d thought it was only a story meant to scare us.
He gave me back my vials. Immediately, I stuffed them inside my messenger bag close to the book I was carrying. “Rebels? I thought it was rumor and speculation. Last I heard, the minister—along with his hunters—ran a tight ship.”
The conductor nodded and from the dull look in his eyes it was clear he didn't wish to discuss it with me any further. “I only do what I'm told. Same as you, I would think.”
He would think that, wouldn’t he?
Chapter Four
Sebastian
The pub of Haven was one of the best places in the Free Lands to get a bite to eat, get some relaxation, and some information. The tables and chairs were handcrafted from wood and the countertops at the bars shone. Inside smelled like cooking potatoes, oregano, and fresh roasted beef. The air was warm and comfortable, thanks to the fireplace by the dance floor where men and woman kicked up their heels.
“Ale, please,” Sebastian said as he slid a coin across the bar top toward the female barkeep, Rebecca.
She slid it between the space between her breasts and the brown corset she wore over her bar maiden dress. Easy on the eyes and with a head full of brown curls, she was an enticing flirt. Rebecca grinned and headed over to the tankard.
A sweet woman, and an even sweeter find, if Sebastian had time for such things. Sadly, he didn’t.
“Looking for something special, Sebastian?” With a sultry flip of her hair, she slid the tall stein of ale to Sebastian, before leaning against the bar.
Sebastian shook his head as he brought the stein up to his lips. “Just heading home after a journey across the free lands.”
She placed a hand on her hips and pushed them out to one side. “And home, where might that be?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He gave her a coy smile and Rebecca burst out laughing.
“I do like you. I’d like you even better upstairs.” She bit her lip and reached across the bar, fingering the collar of his robe.
It’d be a fun romp, but nothing more. Still, refusing Rebecca’s advances grew more difficult for Sebastian all the time.
“You travel up and down the free lands, but you never find what you’re looking for. You ever think maybe you should just ask for directions?” Rebecca asked with a shake of her head.
If Sebastian thought someone could tell him where to find what he searched for, he’d gladly ask. “Thanks for the drink and advice, Rebecca. It’s worth a pretty penny, just like you.” Sebastian lifted his mug and when she blushed and turned around, he laughed.
Sebastian pivoted on his bar stool, keeping his cloak tight around the brown leather armor he wore. There was a sword holstered on his back and a crossbow on his hip. His gaze turned to a group of old timers sitting at the table across the way. One was missing an eye, and the other, Rob, had a bald shining head. Their brown robes had seen better days, nearly as weathered as their faces.
Sebastian tuned his ears to them and kept his head down. The man with the missing eye jammed his finger repeatedly onto the wooden table surface. “He said he crossed the barrier, but I didn’t believe it.”
The bald man shook his head with a tremulous laugh. “The barrier? From the Civilized Lands? They can’t tie their own shoes without permission.”
“Aye, aye! He said he was selling contraband. Books.”
Books? Sebastian’s interest piqued.
“Books?” Eyeless waved him off. “Those haven’t existed in hundreds of years. If there were any left, the ministers would see to it that their knowledge was struck out. Even here, we have no books.”
“Even if we did, we can’t read.”
“Uh, cat got your tongue, Rob? What are you trying to say?”
Rob leaned in close and licked his lips. “In the town of Effletown, he said he had just left and a woman there could read. Had books. Read to the children. He was terrified and after meeting her he fled for the barrier. He thinks the ministers can read minds and would kill him, just for meeting her.”
A woman that could read. Sebastian’s heart quickened; he couldn’t just sit idly by any longer. He approached the table and spun a seat around. “A woman could read in Effletown, you say?” Sebastian straddled the chair and leaned in.
They both gave Sebastian a quick double take. “Eh,” Rob said, “it’s not polite to eavesdrop, you know!”
“Is it true?” Sebastian licked his lips.
Rob nodded. “Every word. In Effletown, but he didn’t think she was from there. She was a traveler. Maybe even a rebel.”
Eyeless laughed. “Don’t listen to him, young man. He’s crazy. There are no rebels left. No one to oppose the ministers of the Civilized Lands. At least us here in the free lands don’t need to worry about it.”
Would they believe him? Sebastian wasn’t sure.
“Yet,” Rob said sternly. “Yet. Until the ministers are done over there. How long is it until they set their sights on us?”
How long indeed. “Thank you, gentlemen, for your time. I’m afraid I must go.” As Sebastian stood, he pulled two coins from his leather pouch and slid them onto the table. “Next round is on me.”
They cheered as Sebastian made his way out the saloon door. The small village of Haven was nothing more than a watering hole for those passing by, but a tall ten-foot-fence surrounded both the pub and inn a hundred feet away.
Sebastian didn’t need a room for the night, after all. He had to hurry home, back to the museum. Markus had to be told that after centuries of waiting, after decades of searching, she had finally been found.
The last curator. The one who would save the world.
Sebastian grabbed the reins of his tan horse, Freta, and she neighed, tossing her head back to throw him a glare. Stroking her head and neck, Sebastian found some sugar cubes in his pocket and fed them to her. “You deserve the night off, Freta,” He sighed and glanced up at the night sky.
A deep rumble from the mountains in the west alarmed him. The sky lit up bright red and Sebastian pulled Freta away from the inn so he could get a better look. The mountain separated as something grew from them, pulverizing the rocks in a mighty breath. The rock fused together in what could only be described as a giant tower, the top glowing red as lava sprung forth.
Sebastian swallowed hard and backed Freta up. It was miles away, at least a hundred or more, but even from the great distance, the tower took his breath away. Its base must’ve been a mile wide and it appeared to reach the heavens.
Above it, the sky snapped and a giant whirlpool portal opened. The air screamed and Freta neighed, kicking up on her back legs. Sebastian held onto her reigns with an iron grip as her fear caused her to buck out of control.
“Easy, Freta. Easy,” Sebastian commanded her sternly, quietly, and stroked her mane to help her calm down.
Not only was the curator found, but the Temptress’s ever moving tower had risen in the east just as it was foretold. A sign that the end battle was near, and it would be the people of the Free Lands, and the Civilized Lands, that would be hurt. The dead would be lucky and for those that survived….
Sebastian didn’t even want to think about it a moment longer.
Chapter Five
Tarnish Rose
“Rottenwood! Last stop, everyone off at Rottenwood!”
The conductor’s voice jarred me from my sleep and I rubbed my eyes, gazing out as the landscape came to a stop. The old train wheels squeaked and the train bell chimed three times as the platform came into view.
I peered out to get a view of the sky and saw that midday was upon us. Poppa was going to lay into me when I arrived home and I’d have to come up with a story to explain why I was a full day late. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first
time I’d have to lie about it. Other times, suppliers ran short or bad weather stranded me in a foreign town, but this….
Savings books, hiding from hunters and playing catch with a freight train weren’t exactly things you could tell a father. Especially with the watchful eyes of the ministers keeping tabs on you at all times.
I slid off my bench and kept pace with the crowd. I skipped down the two steps and my boot slipped when it met the platform. “Careful there, Miss Taylor,” the conductor said and caught my arm, his other hand dangerously close to my satchel.
I slid my arm over top to protect the contents and offered him a gracious smile. “Thank you. Never will get used to how slick the platform gets in all this mist.”
He tipped his hat and I rushed away. There weren’t many people on the platform and I threaded between them. I kept close to the chain link fence, hoping to blend away into the scenery as I passed more conductors and security in bowler hats and thick mustaches. When one nodded hello to me, I returned the greeting, my eye drawn by the baton he grasped tightly into his hand.
I came to the gate and slipped on by. The arrows pointed the way toward mid-town and I took that path and stepped off the platform onto the cobblestone road. Trudging down the hill, I gazed up at the grey sky and the tower in the distance. The hunters were home at their tower, swirling above and I worried about what they might be looking for.
Always nervous, always looking over my shoulder—it was no way to live, but that was life.
As I came to the center of town, the crowd grew denser and I slowed down so as not to bump into anyone. A small girl, with a brown handkerchief tied around her hair, sat on nearby steps nearby and gazed up at me with sad eyes. I was about to smile when someone from behind me slipped their hands over my eyes.
I gasped and grabbed at them as they laughed. “I’ve got you now,” the husky, male voice said.
“George!” I whipped around and smiled at my friend. He wore a dark robe over simple clothes that were tattered at their hems. His family were simple candlemakers but that fact couldn’t dull his smile or his handsome face. With kind brown eyes and a head full of brown hair, he had always been easy to look at.
“You have to stop going around scaring me all the time.”
“And you have to stop showing up late all the time. You were supposed to be home last night.” George stroked the sleeve of my jacket as we walked in time toward town. The only real affection we were supposed to show. I could barely control myself around him nor my desire to hold his hand, stroke his skin.
Something. Anything. A connection.
“Did my parents tell you that? Are they worried?”
“I went around to your house looking for you this morning. Mr. Taylor is pacing even as Mrs. Taylor tells him to stop,” George’s lip curled up in a lopsided grin. “In other words, everything is as it should be.”
I laughed nervously. “Great. I mean, yeah. The train was delayed. They had to fix…something.”
“Something?” George’s eyebrows rose. “I think you’d better come up with a better story than that before you get home.” He had never been with me on any of my adventures, but George was able to see right through me.
“A story? You think I’m lying. I swear to you, George…” I cut myself off as it hit me that I was lying to him. My oldest and dearest, and I couldn’t even tell him the truth, could I? I felt like such a heel.
“I know how much you like adventure—even when it’s frowned upon—but you have a merchant’s pass.” George shrugged. “Why not use it to see things that most in Rottenwood only dream of?”
“Don’t use that word.” Dream? Had he gone crazy? My breath caught in my throat. “If the ministers overheard how we talked, we’d both be in a host of trouble.”
“You’re right. Forgive me. No one dreams anymore, do they? Even when they sleep. There’s nothing left to dream about, only work. Dingy and gray…even my mind can’t dream up color anymore.” George smirked. “Except for the day when you return home from your business trips.”
He walked even closer to me. We were only three blocks from my family’s shop. but I couldn’t stop myself anymore. I tugged on the sleeve of George’s robe and led him down a cramped alley between two brick buildings. There were trash barrels against the brick and two wooden fire escapes, but no people to be seen.
“You stop talking like that or you’ll get us both into trouble.” I pushed my finger into his chest. “Flirting is one thing, but outright dreaming? You know both of those things are forbidden.”
George shook his head, his eyes alive with passion and mischief. He was different than any boy I’d ever met, but he was no longer a boy. He had filled out in all the right places and it stirred something in me I was unfamiliar with. Passion, maybe even desire.
“The ministers and the hunters might control a lot of things, Abby, but they don’t control what’s in my heart. I missed you from the moment I walked you to that train.”
“I missed you, too,” I admitted softly and pulled George back even further into the alley. We rounded the corner to the side barricaded by the fence. George didn’t wait for permission to take my face in his hands and kiss me, because long ago I had tenderly given him my love. He owned my heart in the forbidden way.
My fingers pushed through his hair, losing whatever sense of self I had as his warm breath caressed my cheek.
“We’ll get caught,” I whispered as I gazed into his eyes.
“We are already promised to each other in marriage. Why would the ministers care if we loved each other? Shouldn’t that be what they want from us?” George asked. “This world is backward, things that are outlawed shouldn’t be. The things they ask of us…”
I pushed his face toward mine. “Be quiet and don’t say the things you do. I won’t see you get hurt, George. Please, for me, keep your thoughts to yourself.”
“In the presence of you?” George shook his head. “I can’t, Abby. My heart pounds at the mere thought of you and to see you….”
I closed my eyes and this time I kissed him. His words of endearment did things to my heart that nothing else compared to. Was it love, honest and true? I wish I had someone I could ask, but the rush of emotion I felt? What else could it be? Such an incredible feeling…why would the ministers ban such things?
What was the world without love?
“We’ll be caught.” I rested my cheek against his and sighed. “We’ve already lingered here too long.”
“In a few short months, we’ll be married. I’ll get my own merchant pass once I join your family and then we can go and do whatever we want,” George kissed my hand, holding it to his face as if he couldn’t fathom if I was real or imaginary.
I was real and what I felt for him, whatever name we gave it, was equally so, but his romantic ideas about the future were too idealistic. “We’ll go where the ministers tell us. Effletown is a small town, not much there, but a merchant shop will help the community.”
“We’ll do it together.” George said. “And our child…” He laughed. “Even I’m not ready to think about what that will be like.”
I felt the same way. “It makes me nervous, too. I’m not ready to grow up.”
“Yet here we are.”
I blew my hair back with a nervous exhale. As I opened my mouth to speak, I was interrupted by a bell chime. I held my breath and counted the chimes, two, then three…four…
Four chimes meant assembly at the center square, but why now in the middle of the day? This never happened—and generally only at night after the evening meal.
We rushed to the street and easily merged with the crowd that hurried down toward the gray stone fountain in the center of the square. We followed the curve of the road to the Minister of City Affair’s office, the grandest of the stone buildings in Old Town. Hunters swooped down from their tower and gathered up on the middle balcony, way up high.
The doors opened and their leader floated out. He was taller than any of the dea
th hunters and wore an ornate medallion around his neck, but his face was never visible. Skeleton hands emerged from beneath his cloak and he appeared to hover just above the ground. The Dark Lord Creighton, but why was he here? He hadn’t been to our town in years. Why had he come?
When had he come? I felt so guilty…. Did he know what I was up to? Did he suspect someone here stood against his laws? The very laws that kept us safe from the wilds of the barbarians off in the uncharted territories?
Vomit rose in my mouth at all the implications that came along with his presence. I was fixated on the hilt of his sword in his hand. As the bells gonged loudly, he raised his sword into the air. People around us dropped to their knees—George and I following suit. I placed my forehead into the ground, turning ever so slightly to gaze at my friend.
He gazed at me, but he said nothing, the fear in his eyes palpable.
The Dark Lord Creighton led us in prayer and we repeated word for word what he said because to resist would lead to something worse than death. My mouth was dry, and I licked my lips.
“All hail the Dark Lord Creighton and his wisdom. All hail the ministers and their protection of our lands. All hail the great hunters and their ability to dispense justice. All hail the Dark Lord Creighton…”
There was no break in the prayer. My knees ached where I knelt, and my arms shook. And the only way I could tell the passage of the time was the change of shadows cast along the ground. My throat ached, but there was no stopping, we had no choice but to continue.
Even as I spoke, my mind wandered, and I wondered what life would’ve been like without the dark lord and his ministers. Would we be free? Or would we be engulfed in nothing but chaos? Did I even need to ask? I knew my heart and its desires to be free.
The bell gongs signaled for us to stop speaking, but we were not permitted to sit up or remove our bent foreheads from the street. My neck ached, and my ears strained to hear what was going on. From within the crowd came a few sniffles and sobs of what I suspected was terror. I dared not look but I felt desperate to do so. Until I heard his voice.
