by Marc Mulero
“Hmm,” Eres grunted, somewhat accepting of her words.
“I’m so proud of you, Eres, for taking this route… your own way. Not some predetermined, step-by-step Skrol dictation.”
“If I was a betting man, I would think that you want me to exist as a Herald.”
“Seems better than joining some narrow-minded cult. Why not just be allies with them instead of becoming them? This way you won’t lose who you are.”
Eres freed himself of her grasp. “Do you think so little of me, that I’ll just fall in line, lose all of my will and become brainwashed or something?”
Dee’s full lips straightened into a line. “The ways of lineage can be… persuasive. That’s all I meant.”
They both watched the waiter pull back an enormous ornate chair, like a throne, so Windel could tuck her dress and sit primly.
“Thank you, sir.”
“My pleasure, young madam.”
He then rushed to the other side and pulled back another throne-like seat motioning for Dee to take it.
“Now this is service… wow.” Windel shimmied to get comfortable, while staring out past the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that led out into the vast arena.
Once they were all properly tucked in, given their menus, and assured that they had all the time in the world to decide, each of them looked to the most wonderous part of the whole adventure - the sky.
“In all my visits here, this never got old.” Dee was mesmerized.
In the Colliding Spheres, the sky wasn’t blue, not all of it anyway. Similar to the ceiling within the dome, it faded into different colors, was sometimes striped with dancing lights, like the the storms of Ombes. Chemicals up above bonded and clashed, in constant flux from the atmosphere of two planets fusing as one to make the Venn diagram that Ingora was.
“Hypnotizing,” Windel agreed. “A firework show coordinated by Mustae herself.”
Although Eres was amazed by all of it, there was something else clawing at his mind – Ilfrid’s words… they had eighteen hours to make a dent in this investigation, otherwise he’d be stuck, on his way to the Verglas Sphere to suffer his Skrol Trials while the Alliance withered.
After another minute or two, Windel clapped her menu shut.
“Don’t worry, Eres, we’re going to find Proctor Wudon and we’re going to bring him back.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“Well, I’ve seen Joodah before. I know what he looks like. Unlike you, I’m not hiding from anyone. And I’m known to be quite the negotiator,” she said casually, “so let me take a crack at getting some information, this way you don’t have to worry if he knows a…” she lowered her voice and cupped a hand around her mouth, “Dawn is out and about. Besides, you took out one of KQ’s men. Why drag attention to yourself?”
“I’m not letting you walk into Ozgulo surrounded by our enemies alone.”
“Eres, did you not just hear that we’re completely safe here? The Sindus will have knives to throats faster than you can say Mustae. I think it’s a good idea. Much less risky than you going.”
“I’m not comfortable with this.” Eres, feeling again like he should lead the group, was being catered to once more, further emasculating him as if he hadn’t already been feeling uneasy in that department.
Windel raised her eyebrows. “Good thing then that I wasn’t asking for your permission. As you’ve witnessed, I can take care of myself.”
“This isn’t your mission, Windel.” Eres clenched his hands around his menu to the point where his knuckles turned white and slapped it down on the table.
“Oh, isn’t it, though? I’ve taken leave from my career, nearly died trying to rescue you five years ago, and again yesterday in the Scarred Lands. I think I’ve earned my stay, don’t you?”
Dee, for the first time, looked bashful as her eyes darted back and forth to what appeared to be a couple fighting. “Five years ago…” she looked to the table, and then slowly back up, “you tried to break him out of Elesion?”
“With another proctor, who is now jailed, yes.” Realizing she might’ve overstepped by revealing information that Eres was probably not forthright with, Windel’s expression softened, immediately trying to backpedal.
“I think,” Dee said lowly, turning to Eres, “this one right here has earned the right to call her own shots, or at least be heard. I vote that she should be the one to approach Joodah, if he’s even here.”
Eres wanted to lunge for Dee’s hand for damage control... to show that it was still him and her against the world. He could read her face in the same way that Windel could read his. But something stopped him from acting: that feeling of being teamed up on. It was annoying.
Then, like an unexpected gift, the entire stadium rumbled to grab their attention. It felt as though a bomb had gone off in the left annex, nearly jolting Eres out of his seat and leaving Windel clamping her armrests with concern.
Ohndee just sat back, folded her arms and smiled knowingly. “First-timers. It’s kind of fun to pop your cherries.”
Eres relaxed upon seeing Dee so calm. “You and I don’t even have cherries to pop, Ohndee!”
“Shhh!” Windel exclaimed in her loudest whisper.
And just like that, all of the tension was dispelled with laughter pooling in to take its place. Their minds bounced to funny thoughts in the most unfitting setting – church giggles – that uncontrollable laughing fit that happens at the most inappropriate times. But before they could even come up for air, the revving of a nearby jetpack made their heads turn.
“Look!” Eres wiped a tear from his cheek.
They watched a man covered in fire backflip through the air on the other side of the glass in front of them. He was wriggling like he’d been tossed, and eventually steadied.
“Is that a Dweller?” Eres asked.
“Certainly, has the same gear,” Windel confirmed.
“The opening matches have begun.” Dee pointed as the dueler exploded like a shooting star back toward his opponent. “See those seats?” She pointed a few rows ahead, to tables right beside the glass. “Seven hundred Sajs just to dine, not including the meal. It’s like a skybox at a Surfech game – best seats in the house.”
Eres squeezed Dee’s leg under the table, as both an apology and a sign of affection, evoking a coy smile that he hoped was too brief for Windel to catch. Then the three of them laughed, cheered, and plotted for the next hour.
Windel haughtily flipped three intricately carved coins onto the table next to the bill, earning one more wince from Eres as she did it. It felt good to spend her hard-earned money, to showcase some success, although she may have been oblivious to Eres’ discomfort surrounding it all. Currency complicated things. It made Eres realize that although he was often on his own, his independence hadn’t yet been won… or earned rather. What kind of person was he if he couldn’t take his girlfriend and friend out to a meal? Not a very accomplished one… that’s what. Many young adults his age had already rolled out of Kor and into their desired work force. But not him. He was on the run, boundless, chasing some cause that so few believed in. Not a Saj to his name.
The time for wallowing was over, however. Now the plan was officially in motion. The three of them exchanged suspicious looks – Dee properly dabbing her napkin on each corner of her mouth before rising, Eres using his prim sleeve, which earned a gasp from both girls like he’d just committed a heinous crime, and Windel inhaling deep to prepare herself. She was about to seek out the most hated criminal Kor Vinsánce had ever encountered, after all. It would be a downright lie if she told herself that the heat rising from her belly wasn’t from that.
What would they find once they crossed the bridge into the Ozgulo Annex? Even though these were safe grounds, Eres could only imagine criminals diving over tables to slash one another’s throats, chairs being kicked over, broken bottles. Chaos. Was the Sindus Guild really that intimidating, to tame the entire underworld when they’re bottled up i
n one location? He had no idea what to expect.
“Have you been on this side?” Eres asked Dee.
“Father always said that I should be comfortable with fear.”
“What was it like?” Windel wanted to know.
“Well, let’s see the best way to put it…” She tapped a finger to her chin. “How about a thousand murderous eyes honing in on two lonely ol’ innocent ones. I remember it as if it was yesterday. They were grungy, ravenous. But they all knew the repercussions; it was evident that they’d be stripped of their lives if they acted on any of it. Not all of them felt threatening, of course, but as a little girl, alone, you can imagine the feeling.”
“Fantastic.” Windel gulped, feeling naked without her gear.
All attention in the restaurant was on the flashes of clashing Crule, the explosions, a love letter from one dueler to the other to swat the opponent out of the sky so they could both play on whatever platform they were meant to down beyond the glass. This was good for the three of them, so they could slip by undetected. Regardless of whether they were just being paranoid, the distraction helped.
Across they went, over a glass bridge that made everyone’s stomach lurch when they looked down. It was as if they were walking on air, delicately, where one heavy step would streak the glass with cracks and leave them to plummet into an angered sea. Its foggy blue mouth was licking its lips directly below… waiting, lapping itself in anticipation. But Eres tried not to think about it. Instead, he glimpsed the platform in the center of it all, the arena, which struggled to stay above water. The two agile teched-up competitors were putting on a grand show. He wanted so badly to turn and watch, but a light push from Dee made the urge disappear.
Then they heard it… a soft eerie voice singing to the sound of even lighter instruments - a ghost among dark waters humming a tune for her corroding body. It was haunting - fitting, but not at all what he expected. A waft of mead accompanied some murky air. A barbeque. It was good, and would’ve made him salivate for sure had he not just eaten the first four-course meal of his life. Once they stepped over the threshold, past two silent Sindus that were boring into their souls, the indiscernible chatter flooded in.
Commotion. Ruckus. Laughter? Ceilings were lower in this area to perhaps provide more layers above for additional seating. What was this? A casino? The middle section was loudest – games that looked more fun than his first impeller hop were being played, and as the room fanned out, the events became quieter, thought-filled. And on the ends, near the windows, no games at all… conversations, deals, Eres was sure. What he would do to be a fly on the wall, to understand who among the many here were after the Skrols, after their espers, the secret.
“Kovella’s colors,” Windel whispered, her voice shivering. “I’d recognize them anywhere.” She nodded to a faraway corner on the other side of commotion, away from the duel. “Wish me luck Eres. I pray I can hold it together upon seeing my friends’ killer again in the flesh.”
People were bustling between them - less reserved servers than they’d just experienced, uncourteous guests that intentionally shouldered past, the thugs who could handle them. Everyone on this side was rough around the edges, their aura somehow making the air thicker. Amongst it all, with Dee on one arm, Eres reached over with the other to squeeze Windel’s. “If Joo isn’t among them, you exit immediately and we find another way. Don’t shake your head! Promise me.”
“This is our only lead, I have to prod. I’ll be fine. I can promise you that.”
Eres cursed quietly when she freed herself from his grip and slipped into the crowd.
“She’ll be okay,” Dee comforted. “She can handle herself.”
“What can we do? Just wai-”
Before Eres could even finish the words, a large Dagos, not lanky and slim like the rest of them, stood before him, casting a shadow over the couple. He cleared his throat to apologize for the interruption. The truth was, this man could’ve crushed both of them just by falling forward, and all three of them knew it. But the Dagos’ eyes kept averting, likely to see if Sindus were watching.
“’Scuse meh. I’ve been told, mm, yeh, to come get yeh. Can’t just grab yeh like in my lands, no, not here. That Sindus been watchin’ me for two days now.”
Dee and Eres looked sideways at one another.
“So I’m here ta… ask,” the last word made his face twitch, “if you’d join us at a friendly game o’ Sids, kay, yeh? Can’t force yeh though.” He lifted swollen hands that looked too large to be real.
“Who is inquiring?” Eres tilted his head to hear better.
The Dagos’ entire belly thumped up and down from laughter. “You’ll see in a moment, yeh? Up to you now, kay, yeh.”
Dee quietly reminded Eres, “Remember, they can’t do anything to us here.”
Eres nodded, shrugged and motioned for the monster to lead the way.
“No, no. Just you, yeh. No room for two, no.”
Dee sighed. “Go,” she said, “you’re being invited into the heart of things. Find something out and come back to me.” She grabbed on tightly to his vest and nooched his lips before pushing him ahead.
“C’mon, missing my games, got’sta pay to hold my spot. Costin’ me Sajs, yeh? Don’t like when people cost me Sajs.”
Eres rolled his eyes behind the Dagos’ back. It felt like he was being led through a cornfield with an elephant stomping a trail before him. Seated players were startled as their chairs were bumped, looking up with disgust as the Dagos passed. Waiters moved sideways to make room. The ground shook to announce them. Where was he going? Who would want to see him? And who could command such a beast to fetch him?
His mind was racing… in an instant the three of them, who were supposed to stick somewhat together, had been pulled in every direction. It felt maniacal, schemed. More paranoia? Who knew at this point? The land was too foreign to have any intuition about it… yet.
Finally, to snap him out of internal fear and into the external kind, the Dagos extended a long flabby arm to present his seat.
“Dunno, why you, yeh? But here you are.” The Dagos shook his head and sauntered back to his reserved seat, other players shimmying their chairs over to make room.
Eres turned away from the ruckus and looked down to the seat that was pulled out for him, then to the man sitting coolly across from him.
His heart stalled. A wide-brimmed hat covered most of the man’s long face as he looked down at his Sid deck. His cloak was brown, sleeves pushed back so his long and thin muscular arms were stretched over the table to sift through his cards.
Eres couldn’t breathe, let alone ask a question. And when the man lifted his face to confirm the truth of it, Eres could feel his heart pumping on overdrive, like a small bomb had erupted in his chest.
“Greetings, Eres from Kor Vinsánce. We meet again.” Seren Night smirked for the very first time.
Chapter 24
The Main Event
Seren leaned in slowly, making the fine wooden table beneath his elbows creak loudly. “How does it feel, to fight as a grunt in a quiet war, not knowing your true purpose, nor have the ability to perceive the strings that move you?” He glanced up as if he could see the fictitious strings perfectly, and then downward to the puppet sitting before him.
Eres was offended and intimidated all at once, sitting back instinctively, doing his best not to let his discomfort show. The unwavering gaze of his enemy evoked the same kind of dread his father felt back down in that cave, but he couldn’t fold here. Not now.
“Why don’t you enlighten me then?”
Seren couldn’t have known it, but Eres was playing a hand of poker himself. He had access to Seren within the depths of his esper, where he’d encountered his father’s memory of him. All he would have to do is meld himself into him to understand his true motive, then he would understand Seren better than Seren could understand him. Should he slip inward now, just for a few seconds? No. He would see the glowing light even if he hid h
is hand. He couldn’t risk Seren knowing that he possessed Agden’s esper… that Agden had perished.
“Very well. I suppose, in war, it is important to understand your enemy. You deserve to know what makes me tick, if your allies have failed to inform you.” He spread his fingers to lay the cards over the table face down, the bones in his hand rising and falling like the inside of a piano. “Do you know that feeling, as if someone or something was looming over you, playing you like a fiddle, withholding information from you, dropping you in the dark with none of the answers. Like whoever or whatever it was had a leg up on you, and no matter how fast you try to catch up to it, no matter how hard you think to understand it, you could never grasp whatever hidden knowledge was hanging over your head. Do you know that feeling, Eres from Vinsánce?”
Eres sat frozen in his chair at the repeated mention of his name. Then he counted down, reminding himself to breathe, to think clearly. It made him relax, because although Seren was able to identify him, it was only a part… a very small part of his secret. Public records, perhaps. Seren hadn’t said either of his last names, Dawn nor Way. He was still an orphan in this man’s eyes, like his father had planned.
“Well,” Seren pushed back in his chair, “I for one know that feeling. It resides as a splinter in my mind that I haven’t been able to pluck for decades. It throbs, haunting me like a heartbeat in my eardrums. Challenging me into action to silence it. I intend never to be in the dark again, Eres. That’s why I’ve chosen my side in the Silent War.”
“You’re the reason we’re even at war,” Eres stated bluntly.
Seren regarded him calmly, pity apparent through a long exhale. “If I am plagued with only being awarded glimpses of moonlight… then you are blindfolded and wrapped tightly in an underground dungeon.”
