Broken in Twilight

by Kim ten Tusscher

  Her skin started to cool down. The pain disappeared as she searched for Kasimirh. She was curious to know whether his presence could explain what had happened. She briefly touched his mind, but he was even weaker than before, she sensed nothing more than some vibrating energy. What was happening?

  “Where were you going, anyway?” Seraph asked.

  “A dragon lives out here. He’ll help me.”

  Seraph shook his head condescendingly. “Stupid wench. What do you expect him to do?”

  “I want to learn about my species. And maybe he can help me make a new amulet.”

  “You’ve got a new amulet now, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t want this one.”

  Seraph shrugged. “Didn’t anyone warn you about this dragon?” he asked.

  “Maybe the Inuuk thought they could get rid of her this way,” Nander whispered.

  Seraph nodded.

  “What do you mean?” Lilith asked.

  “Well, all dragons have suffered the consequences of your actions. Ever since you started working for us, people around the world have called in the help of dragon slayers. People pay these mercenaries to kill your species. It’s a gruesome ritual. They shoot the dragon out of the sky. They sometimes use bullets, but more often arrows drenched in a sedative, so that the dragon can’t fight back. To turn the exercise into a beautiful spectacle they ask the people to follow them. In some cases, they even shoot the dragon with burning arrows. As the dragon is still in flight, the fire is stirred up, and the dragon is already badly burned when it falls to the ground. But it doesn’t stop there. Actually, that’s just the beginning. Cheered on by the crowd, the dragon slayer keeps at it all night, and all the time the dragon can’t defend itself because of the sedation. In the end the dragon dies, out of exhaustion, not because of the wounds inflicted by the dragon slayer, which are rarely lethal. In the unlikely case that they are, the dragon should actually consider itself lucky.” He looked at her closely. “Many dragons have died like that.”

  Shivers ran down Lilith’s spine. Kasimirh had also warned her about the dragon slayers. Seraph’s story wasn’t new to her. Her master, however, had always told her that the dragon slayers were part of the reason why her attacks on the villages were justified, not that she was the reason the dragon slayers had a job in the first place.

  “You see, Lilith. We came to protect you. You’re safe with us.”

  They sat together in silence. Lilith’s thoughts were all over the place. It was very likely that Seraph was telling the truth.

  “I don’t understand how you could be that stupid. Going off to meet a dragon all by yourself. A tremendously powerful creature that will be furious at you. And you wouldn’t even be able to defend yourself because you can’t shift any more. No one there to help you. You were doomed to die. It’s lucky that we came along when we did.”

  Lilith nodded absentmindedly. There was too much to think about.

  At night, Lilith got the white pouch out from under her clothes. She was glad that she had been wearing it on her body and hadn’t stowed it away with her other possessions on the sledge. By the soft light of the lamp she could see the two Purified men sleeping. Seraph had put his arms around Nander. They were breathing slowly. She knew what Seraph was trying to do, but was determined to not let him succeed. Lilith carefully brought the flute to her lips. Her heart pounded, and the first notes disappeared in an inaudible sigh. She mustered up all her courage and blew the flute as loudly as she could. Seraph immediately sat up straight, causing Nander to slide off him and wake up as well. Lilith blew a few more notes before she put the flute away again.

  Seraph looked confused, but before he could say anything, the roof collapsed. Lilith hadn’t expected help to arrive so soon. Seraph cursed and wiped away the snow that had landed on him. The lamp had fallen over, but the moon provided enough illumination.

  A man jumped down the hole in the roof. He pulled Lilith up with one hand and cut her ropes with the other, after which he pointed his knife at the Purified men. Lilith was outside before Seraph and Nander could even jump up.

  “Lilith, run!” the man yelled at her, but Lilith stood riveted to the spot. The man yelled once more that she had to run. She jumped onto a sledge, took off her amulet and threw it away.

  Seraph didn’t have time to let it register that he recognized the voice. Together with Nander, he launched himself at the stranger.

  The man’s way of fighting had something animal like. He jumped out of the way like a cat and dodged with agility, meanwhile dealing powerful blows. His knife kept coming for his opponents’ throats. Nevertheless, Seraph managed to land a few good blows. He had drawn his sword and lashed out at the assailant.

  The man jumped forwards and increased the speed of his knife. Nander’s scream was cut short. Seraph had jumped towards the stranger, but now looked at Nander behind him. The man could easily throw him off and Seraph landed on top of Nander. As he realized that the warm liquid was blood, he heard the stranger say:

  “One of your loved ones in exchange for two of mine. Not a bad trade off, I would say.”

  The meaning of the words didn’t completely register with him.

  “No, Nander, you’re not leaving me now.”

  Then he turned around and launched himself at the stranger. Arms around his waist, Seraph managed to work the man to the ground. More snow came down. There was a struggle, and the man’s fist knocked Seraph back. The man jumped through the hole and disappeared into the night. Seraph decided against pursuing him. He crawled back to Nander, who was holding his hand pressed against his throat, taking wheezing breaths. Seraph pulled him up and held him close.

  “I don’t know how to help you, Nander,” he whispered emotionally. He felt extremely powerless. There was nothing he could do, and there was no one around who could help the seriously injured man. Nander looked scared and then went quiet. His breathing stopped and his eyes glazed over.

  Not until the sun rose, did Seraph let go of his friend. Nander had turned stiff, and Seraph had difficulty moving because of the cold. He hoisted himself out of the pit and let the sun warm him. Before he filled up the pit to bury Nander, he whispered: “It might be a good thing to believe in Jakob after all, because If I did, I’d know for sure that I’ll see you again one day. But I don’t believe in the Gods, too much has happened. Farewell, Nander, at least you don’t have to feel the pain of life any more.”

  His hand slid down in search for the necklace he was now wearing. He had made it for Nander, soon after the Purifications. There wasn’t much left but a weather-beaten piece of wood. The symbols that Seraph had carved into it had long worn off. He had told Nander once that he should throw it away, because he could buy him much more beautiful pieces of jewellery made of gold and silver. Nander had wanted none of it. He had been convinced that this trinket was going to protect him forever. That spell had been brutally broken the night before.

  23

  Kasimirh jolted awake as the gates were bashed open violently. The light of the torches was so bright that it shut out everything else.

  “No, not again,” Kasimirh begged. “Please, leave me alone.”

  The lights came closer.

  The soldiers tortured Kasimirh daily, and he feared that Ohkaté had come back for more. He closed his eyes, but couldn’t block out the sight of the dancing flames as the men walked around the cage. Kasimirh braced himself for the pain of the fire on his skin.

  “Bring the sorcerer!” someone yelled.

  Chains rattled and the cage bumped against the ground. The shock made Kasimirh groan with pain. He wasn’t able to raise himself up, but as the soldiers came closer, he saw that their uniforms were yellow. He recognized the symbols of Pontifex Zuzeca.

  The Jakobinians in the cells woke up as well. In the beginning, the number of prisoners had grown. Not because they had all joined Jakob, but because they had shown their disgust with the killings. There had even been attempts to free the prisoners.
Over the past few days, however, peace had returned in the town. No one dared to offer resistance any more for fear of being executed by Tehmuga.

  The cage was shoved onto a cart, and the horses took off almost immediately. They rode past the execution site. Kasimirh had been brought out every day to witness the executions, but after the first day the soldiers had gagged him to stop him from praying out loud.

  The town quickly disappeared in the distance. With every bump or sharp bend, Kasimirh’s tortured body smacked into the bars. He tried to brace himself, but couldn’t keep that up for long. Every muscle in his body tensed up and his screams broke the silence of the night, until he didn’t have any energy left for screaming any more, either.

  Hours later, the soldiers stopped at an army post. The horses were exchanged for new ones. The soldiers who garrisoned the post gathered around the cage. Kasimirh curled up in an attempt to escape their gazes. Someone spat at him.

  “What will happen to him?”

  “We’re taking him to Zuzeca. It wouldn’t surprise me if they’re going to put the sorcerer on display for a while. Maybe they’ll sacrifice him during Zuzeca’s inauguration as Maximus.”

  “With this catch, the other pontifices have no option but to choose him.”

  After they had left the post, a soldier climbed across the box onto the cart. He handed Kasimirh a piece of bread. “Have something to eat. We’ll reach the capital by the end of the morning.” Next, Kasimirh was handed a water skin.

  The sun had been up for quite some time when they reached Zuzeca’s city, which lay hidden among the trees. All that was visible were three towers standing out against the clear blue sky. It was all Kasimirh would see of the capital that day, because the soldiers threw a sheet over the cage.

  As the horses slowly walked through the streets, Kasimirh listened to the sounds. There was cheering and roaring. Some people yelled at the soldiers to take away the sheet.

  “We want to see him!”

  “Show us the sorcerer!”

  Then he heard footsteps very close to the cart, but the soldiers intervened and dragged the man away. The soles of his shoes scraped along the bricks as he protested loudly. The horses were spurred on. The cart bounced on the uneven bricks, tossing Kasimirh around in the cage. It was hard to brace himself, and whenever his body was knocked into the bars he screamed with pain.

  He thanked Jakob when the horses finally stopped. The cage was pulled off the cart and carried away. The wind raised the sheet a little bit, so that Kasimirh could see that he was being carried up a flight of stairs. They entered a building and walked through some halls before the cage was put down somewhere. The footsteps disappeared, and the door was closed with a loud bang.

  Kasimirh listened intently. There was a dead silence. No heavy breathing of some guard. No shuffling from someone who had stood in the same position for too long. Nothing at all. Kasimirh reached out and pulled off the sheet.

  He found himself in a small room, with cold, white stones for walls. Except for the cage, the room was empty. Light came in through windows at the top of the high walls and landed exactly in the spot where Kasimirh was sitting.

  The door opened again and four soldiers entered the room. Two of them were dragging an unconscious man along. The others were carrying a stretcher. Without saying a word, they opened the door of the cage. The soldiers carefully lifted Kasimirh unto the stretcher. The unconscious man was thrown into the cage, after which the door was locked again.

  “Where are you taking me?” Kasimirh whispered, as the men carried him out of the room. The oppressive feeling had disappeared immediately when they had taken him out of his prison, and his powers were slowly flowing back into his body. He suppressed the urge to test whether his powers had truly returned. Magic would cost him too much energy right now.

  The soldiers didn’t answer him and brought him to another room. After they had stripped him of his clothes and laid him down on the bed, they left him alone. Kasimirh quickly turned onto his side; that hurt the least.

  He looked around the room. Through the open window he saw the clear blue sky. Parrots flew by. A warm breeze caressed his cheeks. The room was sparsely decorated. All he could see were a low cupboard, a chair, and the bed. There wasn’t even a rug on the stone floor. On the wall hung a portrait of Margal. The painting wasn’t very good, but it was impossible to escape her gaze. Kasimirh cursed Her in silence.

  He wasn’t alone for long. Two women entered the room. One carried a stack of towels, and the other a bowl of water. The first woman greeted Kasimirh as she put the towels down on the chair.

  “Soldier Simir, my name is Zoë. Pontifex Zuzeca ordered me to treat you.” She pointed at the other woman. “Luan will help me and she’ll take care of you after I’ve finished.”

  Kasimirh nodded and closed his eyes when the healeress laid her hands on his head. The pain immediately subsided. For the first time in days, he managed to relax. Kasimirh hardly felt her hands gliding over his wounds. When she spoke, he opened his eyes.

  “You’re in good hands here, soldier Simir. In a few days you’ll be much better. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about the scars.”

  Luan, meanwhile, had started to wash him, and Kasimirh followed her hands with his eyes. The burn wounds weren’t looking horrible any more. The blisters had disappeared and the wounds were dry. The skin around them had regained its normal colour and his other wounds were healed as well.

  “Thank you, lady Zoë,” Kasimirh said sincerely, and the healeress left the room. Then he turned to Luan. “Are there bad wounds in my face as well?”

  The woman gave him a bashful look. “I’m afraid so. Would you like to see?”

  She held a mirror in front of his face. Appalled, Kasimirh looked at himself. The scars weren’t the only thing upsetting him.

  “Can I ask you to shave me?”

  The woman gave him a friendly smile and draped a blanket over him. Not much later her razorblade was scraping the stubble off his jaw. Pleased, Kasimirh closed his eyes. After everything that had happened that day, this was the last step to feeling somewhat normal again.

  “Soldier Simir, I’m glad you didn’t succumb to your wounds.”

  Kasimirh recognized Zuzeca’s voice and opened his eyes. The pontifex sent Luan away. Then he closed the window and walked up to Kasimirh.

  “You managed to get yourself into some serious trouble.”

  “I’m glad you came right on time, Zuzeca. I had all but given up hope that I’d survive even a day longer.” Kasimirh moved his arm out from under the blanket and shook the pontifex’s hand. He could never have expected that his alliance with Zuzeca would one day save his life. “But why is everybody calling me soldier Simir?”

  “In my infinite mercy, I offered Tehmuga’s soldiers the chance to join me. Of those who have seized this opportunity, soldier Simir is the only one who hasn’t succumbed to his injuries yet. The journey to this city was too much for the rest of them, apparently.” Zuzeca bowed his head as if he was mourning the dead, but when he looked up again, Kasimirh saw his smiling eyes. “Most of the fighting centred around the house of the priest, where Tehmuga was staying. The building was destroyed by fire, so this story won’t raise any suspicions. The nature of your wounds fits the events. Has Zoë done her job well?”

  Kasimirh nodded. “I feel reborn.”

  “Great. I think it’s best for you to get some rest. There are soldiers outside. Call them if you need anything.”

  “Which soldiers.”

  “Soldiers I can trust.”

  Kasimirh nodded. That meant they knew who he was.

  Zuzeca left the room and Kasimirh closed his eyes. He searched for Lilith’s presence. He had felt her when he had still been trapped in the cage. Now she was gone. Kasimirh growled in anger. She had escaped him again.

  24

  Kasimirh sat by the window and stared outside. His room overlooked the elegantly laid-out garden. The lawns were framed by flower
ing bushes. A round pond with brightly-coloured water birds formed the centrepiece. A heron had already been staring at the water for several minutes when he darted into the pond. When he came back up, there was a fish flapping in his beak.

  On the other side of the garden, hidden among the trees, Kasimirh could see the wing of the palace where the women resided. Zuzeca kept his women and children well hidden. Kasimirh had never seen them. Except for Tokala, of course.

  Kasimirh opened the small pouch on his lap and randomly took out a stone. After he had prayed for a while, he got up.

  His recovery had been much faster than Zoë had believed possible. During her treatments, Kasimirh had assisted her with invisible magic. However, he still wasn’t used to the unremitting pain from the tightness in his scars. The scars in his face annoyed him the most.

  There lay a pile of clothes on the cupboard. Kasimirh unfolded the tunic. It was a uniform. He smiled. Zuzeca did whatever he could to add credibility to his new identity.

  Kasimirh pulled the laces out of his nightshirt. It slid down his shoulders. He took his time getting dressed. When he left the room, he took the pouch containing his stones with him.

  It was the first time that Kasimirh could openly walk through these halls. During his prior visits he had often been led through secret passageways. And on the few occasions that hadn’t been the case, he had tried his hardest not to be seen. But now everybody thought that he was a soldier. So when a teacher and his pupils walked past, Kasimirh didn’t quickly jump into another hallway. Instead, he stopped and bowed. Nobody looked at him. They purposefully walked on, as though they were a group of trained soldiers. The look in their eyes, however, was vacant: they were praying.

  Not much later, Kasimirh reached the room he had been brought to on arrival. Two soldiers were standing guard. Kasimirh didn’t know them, so he saluted them in greeting, as Zuzeca had taught him.