by Jill Cooper
Rupert waited with splayed hands, gesturing toward a cavern. Together George and I walked toward it. “Afraid?” he asked.
“Very,” I admitted quietly.
The tunnel widened and I turned a corner, the light shining so bright I shielded my eyes. The ground beneath my feet changed and shifted into soft grass, cushioning my step. As the light dimmed, I took in a sight so beautiful it stilled my breath. The rock sparkled as if covered in glitter and rhinestones. Color of every imaginable shade in what appeared to be a valley hidden in the caves. Beautiful grass, a lake, a rainbow in the blue sky up above, and a shining sun.
Numbly I stared up at it, in awe. The beauty of it hurt, clenched my heart, never before had I seen such color of any kind. There had only ever been gray and black, with shades of white. This…this was everything.
George wiped at his eyes and said nothing, but he felt what I felt, I knew it. He squeezed my fingers as we walked further in, Rupert skipping up beside us. “Pretty, right? Sometimes I forget how pretty until I’m forced into your world. The real world. Scary, the place you make home.”
“You have no idea,” George whispered, and must’ve been thinking about his mother.
The caverns had small nooks and crannies, inside those I saw fairies and pixies working together, trolls hammering rocks into bowls and platters, and women taller than I’d ever seen with grand sweeping wings that sparkled even though there was no sun to shine.
They were beautiful, everything about it was so beautiful.
Everywhere we went, people stopped their work and stared at me, but only one approached me. A troll with bifocals on the tip of his nose, in a tweed suit, and a pen in his hand. His intelligent eyes studied me and on cue, I curtseyed and he laughed.
“Curator, you humor me.” He cackled, his jagged teeth clinking together as he bowed forward. “A gift from all of us to you. We think it’s a pen.” He extended his hand to me and held simply a blue pen.
As I took it from him, I rolled it in my hand to make out the writing on it. “It’s a Bic.”
“She read, she actually read,” someone whispered in the corner and I turned my eye to the tiniest blond fairy in the group.
Everyone stared at me like I was someone far greater than I actually was. Rupert bent so far down at his waist into a sweeping bow that I thought he might fall over.
“What is ‘a pen’ ?” A floating little girl creature that must’ve been a wisp—so tiny and her white robes were nearly transparent, I could see right through her.
“You use it to make letters,” I said and when their expressions turned dumbfounded, I explained further. “You use it to write.”
A collective gasp came over the crowd. “Can you write? Can you make new words out of blank parchment?”
“I don’t know…but I thank you for the gift. I will certainly try.” I slipped the pen into my satchel and we started forward again toward two doors, but this time I had a trailing procession with me. I tried to shake off the self-consciousness I felt, but was hard to do with thirty pairs of eyes watching your every move.
I reached for one of the wooden doors and Rupert stood in front of it. “Not this one, the other one. This door…no one goes in this door.”
My brow furrowed. “Why not?”
“There’s where the tortured are,” the troll answered. “Those creatures, magnificent and not, but they forever burn, not able to let go of the torment we all went through. They are angry and vilified. They won’t welcome you anymore than they welcome us.”
“Don’t let them out,” a fairy whispered, flying circles around my head, leaving a trail of sparkling dust.
Slowly I drew my hand back. Well, it was nice of them to warn me before I got too close.
Rupert opened the door beside it and I walked through with George, but everyone else stayed behind. “You’re not coming with us?” I asked.
Slowly, they shook their heads in unison. “This is our place for now, curator. Follow the cavern and you’ll find a waiting room. It has only one exit. Once you meet the one who is waiting for you, you’ll start the next leg of your journey. The one to the rebels. The one that will see us all go home,” the tall winged figure said, her face glowing, and her hands clasped together.
If that didn’t make me nervous, nothing would. “Thank you, Rupert. For everything.”
“Think nothing of it. We’ll meet again, curator. For this, I have no doubt.” Rupert gave us a parting glance and shut the door, leaving us in darkness.
Chapter Twenty-four
Tarnish Rose
This cavern was different, it appeared to twist off in all directions with scaffolding, as if it was regularly worked upon.
I cupped my hand, called the flame and made out our surroundings as we trekked forward. “You can do that easily now,” George said.
“Being here, things feel different. Like there’s a power or a source, right in my stomach. I just have to tighten it and…” the flame shot out in the center of my hand much higher, sparks flying out.
George’s eyes bulged. “Your power mystifies me and all that you can do. I thought I’d have to protect you as we headed toward the barrier, but your strength amazes me.”
I stopped and he turned to face me, but his head sloped down. “The hunters are after us, we’re wanted fugitives in the eyes of the ministers, George. I certainly didn’t ask for this.”
He gently pulled the hood I wore down and stroked my hair back. “No one ever does, do they? But I thank the fates, or even the ministers themselves for bonding me to you. And whatever we face, I promise we’ll do it together.” George smiled.
“For me, too. If you don’t mind me being afraid…”
“You have every right to be afraid.” Gently, George kissed me. Together we watched the fire dance in my hand. “Look at what you can do. Read? Fire?”
“I wondered about the fire.”
“Because it burns in all of us,” a voice called out and sounded as if it was on approach, “but for most it’s been snuffed out by oppression. You, though, are different. It rages in you and cannot be put out.”
With a quick glance between us, George and I headed toward the voice and we found a man standing in a hidden nook. He wore the most sophisticated robes I had ever seen. Leather arm guards, and leather straps across his chest and hips. His boots were muddied and his right cheek bared a fresh scar like scratches across his cheek.
Exceptionally tall with brown hair and intelligent eyes. A sword was holstered on his back, and a strange weapon on his hip.
George held my arm as we approached and as the man moved, the grip he had on me tightened, but unafraid I stepped forward. The man went down on bended knee, his arm lay across it and he bent to rest his forehead across it.
“Curator, I’ve waited all my life for this moment. You may call me Sebastian.”
I swallowed hard and glanced at George who shrugged. “You may call me Tarnish Rose, as I’m known. My real name—.”
He lifted his head and I startled to notice his eyes weren’t brown. They were blue, different than mine, but not brown like I was so accustomed to. “You need not say it. Words ripple and sometimes the truth finds itself on ears it is not intended for.”
Wise words. I nodded, grateful to meet someone who could help us.
“And I am George.” He stepped up beside me.
“You are her guide then?” Sebastian said as he stood up and offered his hand to George. “Then I give thanks and offer my hand in friendship. Thank you for seeing her this far. I bid you farewell.”
George’s eyebrows rose and I saw his cheeks fan pink. I held my hand out to Sebastian. “George isn’t my guide. He’s…We were to be married until circumstances beyond our control intervened. We left Rottenwood to be together. In a coupling sort of way.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened. “Married? Well, that’s unexpected. Here I thought love was frowned upon in the civilized world.”
The civilized world? That meant that S
ebastian was from beyond the barrier, he lived in the world of the barbarians? Funny, he had manners, wore clothes, and didn’t appear to be an animal of any sort.
“That is none of your business,” George said and I cast him another look. I wasn’t interested in them getting into a pissing contest on my behalf.
“I know of the prophecy,” I said to get us back on track. “I know of the last library and that I’m supposed to find it, but I don’t know how. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next.”
“Come with me,” Sebastian said. “I will take you to Markus and he will explain everything. For five hundred years the rebels have waited for your coming. Keeping the old ways alive, the secrets of the previous world. Much was lost, but we do the best we can. Markus can show you what you need to know and can fill in any questions you might have.”
“Where?” George asked.
“We will continue east, past Imagination and toward the barrier. We’ll have to cross the uncharted domains, but there are dangers there,” Sebastian said.
“I thought the hunters and the ministers couldn’t see Imagination.’
Sebastian nodded. “While true, they have their own way. A dark way riddled with danger and foes, but it is protected to keep them out. This way is secret, but if they were to discover it….they would destroy it. You know of the ministers, the dark lord and the hunters, but past the barrier, there are the ravengers too deranged for your civilized world. They hunt. They eat what they capture.”
I must’ve squeaked out loud because George grabbed my hand. “And the barbarians continue to live there by choice?”
Sebastian broke out into a huge smile. “Barbarians? If that’s what you’ve been told.”
Blushing, I stammered. “I…” George and I glanced at each other back and forth.
“What do you call them then?” He asked Sebastian with a hint of disdain in his voice.
“We call them,” Sebastian said proudly, “free.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tarnish Rose
As we walked, Sebastian explained. “There are no ministers beyond the barrier and no hunters to control the system. Ravengers come and go in waves, but they leave the settled town alone, mostly to patrol the unpopulated areas for animals and travelers, such as us. We’ll need to be careful, but that goes without saying.”
My stomach twisted in nerves and confusion. Sebastian had told us so much already that I wasn’t prepared for. People living together in communities with no real protection? Farming, manufacturing? Yet no one could read, yet they had no one to protect them from….
“Scavengers are another danger,” Sebastian said. “Those that can’t, or choose not to, obey the laws setup by the communities are often cast out. Or they leave if they feel slighted. For those living outside the city walls…well, the land can be harsh.”
“It sounds horrible,” George said.
“Horrible? More horrible than living under the oppression of the ministers and the dark lord himself? I’d be careful about what you call horrible.” Sebastian’s defiant voice rose with defensiveness and George shrunk back, but anger tinged both their eyes.
“Maybe it’s best if neither of us judge each other. We are working together toward a common goal, aren’t we?” I asked.
Sebastian nodded. “Forgive me. I’m not used to talking to those that live in Civilized Lands.” He cringed as the words left his mouth. “Sorry, I mean the minister’s domain.”
“When I call us civilized I use it as a compliment,” I said. “I have a feeling you don’t mean it the same way I do.” I couldn’t help a small smirk, even if I did feel a hint of offense.
“I guess I mean it in a way an animal, once free and wild, has been domesticated to serve its masters.”
His words stilled me in ways I couldn’t have predicted. George’s chest rose with breath. “The animal might be free, but it is also wild. It can’t govern itself.”
“Or it chooses not to,” Sebastian said. “If you’re so happy with the minister’s system, their rules for you, and their way of life, then why did you leave at all?”
George opened his mouth to speak, but then snapped it shut again. He turned his head toward me and I tried to express my feelings to him with my eyes. I can’t say whether I was successful or not.
“We love our families and wish only that we could live in peace. With food, shelter, and…be happy.”
Sebastian smiled. “That’s what I wish for, too. On that note, we find common ground.”
“Good,” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Let’s keep going for a while longer and then we’ll break for dinner. We have a lot of ground to cover and we have to keep both your strength’s up.”
****
We sat in an empty cavern, eating apples and raw potatoes. It wasn’t a meal fit for champions but it filled our bellies. As we settled in for the night, George was the first to fall asleep. Wrapped up in his robe, he snored louder than my father.
I made sure he was warm and that his robe was closed to save some of his body heat.
“You’re kind to him,” Sebastian said quietly.
I wiped George’s brow and watched him settle down, content and happy at my touch. “I love him.”
Sebastian laughed. “I didn’t think people like you could love.”
“People like me?” I narrowed my eyes at his insult. “I broke curfew to get him out of prison. We were nearly killed, more than once. I put it all on the line for him because I couldn’t bear to be parted with him. The idea of him being killed by the hunters broke me. If that’s not love, then what is it?”
Sebastian picked a seed off the floor and flicked it across at her. Tarnish laughed as it landed on her shoulder. “What did he do that got him arrested? Steal? Vandalism?” Sebastian asked.
I shook my head. “He told the truth in the town square. About music and art. What happened to our books.”
Sebastian snorted. “Brave or stupid, I’m not sure which.”
I felt a surge of protectiveness for George. “His mother was branded a forgotten and taken from her home. He was never to speak of her again…and George was angry.”
Sebastian tilted his head to the side and gazed at me, his expression now serious. “I’ve never heard of this practice. Why do they do that?”
“The ministers deem the old or sick—mentally or otherwise—a burden on society. If you can’t contribute to society anymore, you’re out. Plain and simple.”
“Horrible.” Sebastian raised his eyebrows. “We take care of our sick and we nurture and respect our old. They’re the wisest among us. Your people just put up with this?” He snorted and shook his head. “And you call yourselves civilized.”
Shame and humiliation washed over me. “It’s what we’re taught is right. We fear the ministers and what will happen to us if we don’t obey.”
“So, you abandon your weak and allow the ministers to leech onto your vulnerable? There’s nothing civilized about that, Tarnish Rose.”
His words rang true in many ways and I didn’t know how to process that. “Until you’re on bended knee for hours at a time while Dark Lord Creighton walks with you, maybe you should hold your tongue.”
Sebastian’s posture straightened as I said the words. “Our life experiences are different. Maybe if we’re to get along, we’ll have to agree to teach each other a thing or two.”
“Maybe.” My lips twisted in a scowl, but I tried to make it appear friendly.
Sebastian nodded his head toward sleeping George. “He’s lucky to have someone like you and you’re lucky you didn’t get caught.”
He was right about that. “I couldn’t sit by and just let them execute him.”
“No, I’m sure you couldn’t. You can’t fight who you are any more than I can.”
“Are you a curator, too?”
Sebastian snorted. “Heavens, no. I am a historian. I’ve been taught through tales and stories of our past and as we go on our quest, I will teac
h you everything I know.”
I smiled. “I welcome it. George loves information and learning new things, too.”
Sebastian nodded, but held his tongue. “It’s best if you get some sleep now, Tarnish. In a few hours, it’ll be time to move and we never know what will be waiting for us on the other side.” Sebastian collected himself and stood, heading toward the cavern’s exit.
I gazed up at him as I rested my head down beside George. “Where are you going?”
“First watch. We never know what is out there and we never know who might decide to stick their noses in here.”
“I thought Imagination was safe.”
“Mostly. But even some of the kindest spirits have been twisted by torture and rage. If they come, I’ll be ready,” Sebastian said simply, but the tone in his voice was nearly sinister. I shivered even though I wasn’t cold. I snuggled up against George seeking comfort in the dark but instead, everything felt cold and flat.
I wished he was awake. I wished he could talk to me and let me know everything was going to be okay, because I didn’t know and I wished to.
The only thing that made me feel better was my trusty books. As I fell asleep, my hand rested on my messenger bag and I felt the strangest comforts of home.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Tarnish Rose
“Wake up, sleepy head.” George nudged me and my eyes started awake, one hand behind pillowing my head, the other clutching my bag of books. As I sat up, George gripped my hands. “You sleep okay?”
I nodded. “Dreamless. Uncommon for me.”
“You’re lucky you’ve ever had dreams. I’ve never had one,” George said wistfully. “In color, gray, silent, or otherwise.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe when we finish our mission, you’ll be ready.” I smiled at him and he pulled me up to my feet. “Where’s Sebastian?” I gazed around the cavern.
