But still, how many have passed? She pouted, uncertain, but guessed somewhere around five or six since their first encounter. She glanced back at the formal letter.
At the bottom corner of the parchment, Lessa had drawn an exquisite replication of Arianna’s dagger. The thrill of everything began bubbling inside of her, threatening to overflow her mind. She reread the scroll three more times, and her mind reeled with anticipation. She knew from where Lessa came—the Healer’s District.
After a taste of something new and forbidden, Arianna couldn’t wait to know more. This could be her chance to find out a real, solid piece of information. She could take a break from pondering the riddles the mystic Talis Churry left to her.
Today is Sunday. She had all the time in the world since Solomon bid her goodnight. Arianna ran back for her robes sprawled on the floor near her familiar passageway. Stashing the letter in a pocket stitched into the lining of her robes, she slipped on her boots, tied up her hair, and sat at the mouth of Lessa’s passage.
She waited and waited until she heard the unsettling vibrations of the bell signaling curfew. The firebugs hummed in tune to the sound. She knew from Lessa’s letter that it would be curfew in the Healer’s District as well.
Arianna paced in nervous anticipation. It’s too late for her to come now. She let her head fall to her hands. Maybe she gave up waiting on me. It had been over a month.
She speculated the possibilities of Lessa’s absence over and over, but her mind only stopped on one conclusion; Lessa had lost faith. If this was so, and Arianna truly believed that it was, she would have to go and find Lessa herself.
She felt braver on her second chance at life, like maybe she held more purpose than fulfilling the role as a dutiful slave-girl. An insatiable curiosity had formed the very moment she read that letter. The yearning burned at her skin and clawed at her mind.
With it, an idea formed. Urging her body forward, it willed her down a dangerous path. Her legs moved, and she followed the glow on the ceiling of the jagged passageway. The nerves in her body rattled her bones, but her mind pushed forward relentlessly. She wanted answers and would get them herself. She was going to find Lessa Thur.
CHAPTER TWELVE
INTRUDER
Further and further Arianna wandered into the twining tunnel. With every step, her courage became more defined. I will find Lessa Thur. The passageway didn’t differ much from the one she felt accustomed to. The firebugs lit her way like gleaming lanterns attached to the wall, just the same.
Removing the black-leathered glove from her right hand, she let her fingers slide against the cool, sweating rock. It sent a shiver through to her bones, and her skin prickled at the touch.
As she walked, she came upon a center area. Gray, translucent stones reflected the light. The lustrous, ashen gems caped most of the floor and jutted in all directions from the walls. Arianna gaped at the sight as she stepped into the vortex of dancing lights.
Her soul blazed in happiness, much like the time she first laid eyes on her hot springs. Her eyes knew nothing as raw and beautiful as this to be found within the Jar, and a spark of defiance whizzed through her brain and heart as she looked on. She noted all her best experiences came when defying the rules and expectations set for her. Something changed in her then, altering the course of the rest of her life; she rather enjoyed doing things differently.
As she soaked in the sight of the jeweled cavern, her eyes began to adjust to the splendor, and she detected more. Four small passageways carved into the far side of the cavern. Her heart sank as she registered the impasse. She didn’t have a clue as to where to go next.
Suddenly, she remembered Lessa speaking of her make-shift map and threw her hands up in frustration. It only occurred to her now that this is why she had needed it. Arianna never ventured further than her utopia before. She knew only the one large tunnel that led her to and fro from her district, so she had never needed any help with navigation.
Her surge of bravery began to flounder, and she took a seat on a wide, flat facet of one of the gems. Her chin rested in her hands as she contemplated turning back. Racking her brain for guidance, she let her eyes droop to the mudded floor.
For some time, she studied her footprints in the mud as she let her mind wander, but nothing came to surface. Then, as if a jolt of electricity ran through the stone, Arianna jumped up from her seat. With her eyes still glued to the ground, she placed a heavy-set boot against one of the footprints she observed.
“It doesn’t match!” Her voice bounced off the glassed rocks and ricocheted all around like a mocking chorus.
Kneeling to get a better look, she noted that the boot print under speculation seemed much narrower and shorter by at least two inches in comparison to her own. This has to be hers!
She turned in circles, careful of her footing, until positive as to which direction the prints led. Then, she headed with as much gusto as before towards the passageway off to the right. Never losing sight of what she hoped to be Lessa’s tracks, she started to hum a familiar tune which echoed all around her and reinforced her courage. Though the jeweled chamber shrank back behind her, she stayed optimistic all the while.
Following the footprints through the twisting tunnels, she saw the light began to fade as the firebugs grew sparser until soon she wandered in complete darkness. Carrying on with a brave face, her heart began to beat at her chest in defiance of her courage. After some time feeling around in blindness, she reached the end and pushed through, breaking into a dim light.
Vines crumpled and splintered at her force, and she fell, headfirst, into a soft pile of snow. The cold shocked her at first, but she welcomed the outside air. Wary that she might very well be in the Healer’s District, she crouched low.
Scanning her surroundings, she memorized the way back home. The place from where she exited concealed itself under a cover of nature. Barely visible to the untrained eye, roots of a large tree enclosed a small opening, and the thick snow blanketed it in a protective closure, keeping its secret well hidden.
As her eyes adjusted to the glare of the large, white moon on the snow, she realized she stood surrounded by some sort of scant forest littered with blackened trees. They stretched towards an equally black sky. Arianna pulled her robes tighter around her body as the cold settled in… and the nerves. It made her uneasy in these unknown parts, and she hoped her luck still boded well as she began to intrude on the night. Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled at the same moon she looked upon for guidance through the dark.
She wobbled on the uneven ground but found it easy enough to navigate with the light of the moon shining down. The trees snaked all the way to the top of large knolls, some grounded at the bottom. Hopping from tree to tree, she moved, careful not to be seen.
The bark felt rough and sticky under her fingertips, and she smiled. In the Warrior’s District, all the trees had been hacked away and used for weaponry or housing structures. She never once saw so many unwounded in one place before. Beautiful in its own right, she reveled at the sight of the unfamiliar landmark.
As she navigated through the surroundings, she came to a long fence and ducked down. The gate swung back and forth, creaking in the wind. A sign hung loose, reading ‘The Field’.
As she peered down from her hilly perch, her shoulders slumped. The Healer’s District loomed below, washed in dim lantern lighting. Her lips curled at the replica of her own home. Arianna saw the same barracks gathered in bland rows in the distance and other familiar-looking buildings scattered here and there.
The Field and the pattern the buildings laid in made the only discernible difference between the two districts. In the Warrior’s District the roads coiled into themselves, all connected in some way. Here, the roads zigzagged and twisted in abstract designs. Nevertheless, the Blancoren Mountains formed a wide fence around the city, just the same.
She scanned the road, searching for any sign of the regulators but saw no one. Maybe they already finished
the headcount. Curfew long since passed by now, so Arianna started down the single pathway from the Field to the city, no turning back now.
Drawing her cloak tight around her body like a cocoon, she swathed every inch of skin, trying to hide beneath the cloth. The buildings gave her no cover whatsoever, so she hurried through the open streets. Her crimson robes stood out dangerously against the new fallen snow, and she felt like a walking display of treason.
After what seemed like ages, a tall, meek building appeared in front of her—the Dining Hall. Swallowing her disgust, she ducked into the shadows of its walls. They presented the perfect cover for her to calculate her next move.
Arianna mapped the streets with her eyes, committing them to memory. Moments later, she heard a rumble of voices and every muscle in her body froze at the sound. The light of a lantern bounced towards her, threatening to chase away her shadows, as the voices grew more distinct.
“I’m telling you, Rod, I saw something just there. Look for tracks.” the grumbling voice said in a panic.
She heard a loud thump as faces came into view. “Those are our tracks ya idiot!” a regulator screamed.
“Sorry, Rod. It’s just… you heard the general. And did you see Gavin’s bloody mess? His body was completely shredded,” he said in a low voice, scratching at his sore head.
“That I did,” said Rod firmly. “I still can’t believe the wolves got to him.” Arianna watched as he lowered his head, shaggy black hair covering his face.
“He was a good man,” said the other.
“Don’t worry. We’ll catch the wolf that did it,” growled Rod. Their voices grew fainter.
Once Arianna felt sure the regulators had gone from earshot, she peered around the corner. Seeing their sleek, black robes disappear into the night did nothing for the butterflies floating in her stomach.
Gathering her thoughts, she chose a path the exact opposite of the direction of the regulators. A couple of minutes later, more buildings stretched alongside her. Faint lights shone through glassed windows and brick lined the street. The constructions here looked grand, not meant for quartering the slaves, and a street-sign read ‘Supremes’ Way’ in gold lettering. This must be where the elders live.
In her district, the roads created a pattern so that a slave never need pass near the elders’ homes. Unless bidden by an elder, a slave caught there would suffer punishment. Solomon escorted Arianna to his home once or twice during her younger years, and she remembered the splendor well. This street enjoyed the same grandeur that she had glimpsed in her past.
The homes gave a more gentle impression than the ones in her district, the roofs clinging to pastel walls like the rounded tip of a mushroom. Lavished with soft colored bricks of yellow, the homes had a welcoming appearance. The untouched snow at the wooden doorsteps and the steam billowing from the bricked chimneys gave a homey sensation that Arianna had felt little in her life.
She moved carefully, stopping only in the shadows as she wandered up the street. With no instated curfew, elders and regulators could leave their house as they please. She listened for voices as she tiptoed, trying to hinder the crinkling sound of the compacted snow under her boots, her mind whispering silent prayers as she walked. Squinting her eyes to see better, she saw silver-plated names on each door of at least fifty houses.
Wismere Theiss. She studied the first name she laid eyes upon. No lights shone through the windows in this house as she sauntered by. A shudder moved through her body, sending warning signals to her brain. She moved on hastily, not wanting to linger in this forbidden zone. She scanned more names as she passed onward, looking for another path to take in search for Lessa. Atellis Otten, Lavaden Lark, Talis Churry, Chrystyna Rowlings… Arianna’s eyes blinked in hesitation and then snapped back to the name—Talis Churry.
Of all of the fairytales Talis relayed to her, and the many times he visited her and Solomon since the accident, he never once told her where he lived. Then again, it never once occurred to Arianna to ask. He bombarded her with too much to handle, so it simply slipped her mind. Now she stood there at his doorstep, her interest stirred. She left her curiosity about Lessa momentarily subdued by the real-life story of Master Churry.
A lantern in his home flickered in the circle window she crouched beneath. Smoke poured from the chimney, mixing with the fast moving clouds in the sky. She knew she should move on and cling to the hopes of locating Lessa, but somehow she had this man to thank for her life.
The temptation of Talis Churry’s home overwhelmed her. She felt drawn, and her head craned upward towards the window as she peered through.
The house looked even bigger on the inside, and Arianna’s eyes grew wide as she spotted Talis. He sat in a round, leather chair with his legs perched up as he warmed by a fire. His presence gave a welcoming feeling in these unknown parts, and Arianna relaxed a little. She longed to make herself known as Talis had become a dear friend.
She shook her head. Solomon would know I betrayed him. She chewed on her lip, mulling over the decision. No, it’s too risky. She sighed, resigned to her decision. As she stared on, she realized he slept, even noting the faintest snore through the thick-paned glass. She noticed a cup of steaming tea had been placed on the table, and her face lifted in a smile at the familiar picture. She wanted to know more.
Slinking towards the back of the rounded building, sure enough, more large windows came into view. She placed her fingers on the sill and stood up. This dark room contained only a desk littered with parchments and books. A study maybe?
She moved towards a soft, flickering light in the middle window and froze at the sight. She could see the reflection of her shocked face in the glass-pane, watching as her chestnut eyes froze open. “Lessa? But it can’t be,” she muttered. She closed her eyes tight and shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the image. Surely my imagination is playing tricks on me. She peeked open an eye in slow hesitation, frightened by her mind’s own trickery. The image didn’t sway. There lay Lessa Thur.
Arianna smiled with caution. It seemed her snooping paid off, but something about the girl seemed odd. As Arianna observed the sleeping beauty, she noted Lessa’s slow breathing. Too slow… Her head rested on a white pillow, and a thick quilt patterned in swirling greens, blues, and purples wrapped around her body.
Almost as if someone possessed her body to do so, Arianna pulled the windowpane open by the handle. She slid inside, careful not to make a sound. The light of the lantern flickered from the onset of the wind, casting a dim light which bounded off the walls.
The room looked simple except for the duvet and some paintings which hung on the walls. Yet, Arianna considered the room much more glamorous than any she had ever set foot in. She moved further in, and her muddy boots stained the lavender rug on the floor.
She gaped at the pictures on the wall. They resembled the secret beauty of her utopia, their utopia. A myriad of colors played in some, while others depicted monochrome abstracts. Arianna’s lips pursed in a hard line as her eyes settled on the outline of the Blancoren Mountains. The black and white oil painting represented her exact feelings when she looked upon the mountains… dismay. Still, she could not deny the image its dismal beauty.
As she circled the room, she discovered even more pictures piled in a neat stack on a desk. A large oval mirror hung just above it. Arianna studied the frame in decorated silver. Stealing a look at her reflection, her expression turned solemn, and she wiped the dirt from her face. I don’t belong here.
She turned away from the mirror and began thumbing through the paintings on the desk. She stopped cold on her fifth finding. A smile grew on her face at the familiar image, her dagger.
The painting held just as much fascination as the tangible blade strapped to her thigh. She noticed a signature in the corner with the same curly writing as the one on her letter from Lessa. An artist and a ghost, who would have thought? She laughed, replacing the painting back among the others.
After she felt her
curiosity satiated, she turned back to observe the sleeping slave. “What has happened to you?” she murmured. She moved around to the bedside.
Lessa slept motionless, but her eyelids moved slightly as if she dreamed. A light sweat covered her forehead, and her fingers twitched every so often. She didn’t look like she could be awakened, but Arianna tried her luck anyways.
“Lessa, can you hear me?” she whispered near her ear. She placed a hand on her arm and shook her with gentle urgency. Her skin felt cold beneath Arianna’s fingertips.
Lessa never stirred.
Arianna heard a noise from another room, and her eyes watched the door. Thinking it Talis, she decided to take leave. In haste, she searched the room for some plain parchment and ink. She found some on the messy desk and wrote a quick, sloppy letter:
Dear Miss Thur—Slave girl of Healer’s District,
I have received your invitation, and I do readily accept. In fact, I was so eager to meet you that I followed your footsteps. Thank you for leading the way. I see that at the moment you are quite indisposed. When you return from your subconscious, I’ll be waiting there on Sunday… in our secret paradise.
In hopes that you wake soon and remember who I am,
Arianna Belvedor
Slave girl of Warrior’s District
An excitement rushed through her as she folded the letter and placed it under her pillow. She decided her time well spent as she clambered back through the window.
She glanced back for one last look at the ghost girl, and a pair of fiery eyes met hers instead. Arianna screamed, panic prickling her emotions at the presence of another intruder inside the young healer’s bedroom. Her hands flailed, and she fell back into the plush snow, knocking the lantern down with her. The glass shattered and the light blew out, leaving her surrounded in darkness.
Belvedor and the Four Corners (Belvedor Saga Book 1) Page 11
