by J. D. Wilde
“Oriare’s capital Saphira has remained largely untouched by the devilins. They have practically been ignoring it. The only exception is them killing one of us,” Grace explains. “This whole city and its people just feel wrong.”
Adira nods, and I stare at the ground. I’m too ashamed at not noticing this to look at either of them right now. Grace puts her hand on my shoulder, and reassures me it will be fine. I look up to see a comforting smile. It’s not big as she is not showing any teeth, but I do feel better.
“We just need to tread carefully while we are here,” Adira says with the same sort of smile.
“I think being the daughter of light automatically makes you a little too trusting,” Grace teases, and I’m very insulted. Her tone makes it seem as though she is speaking to a child. She is offering her years of wisdom to the innocent, little one.
“I am not too trusting,” I strongly disagree. “I don’t know how I managed to let my guard down like that, but it will not happen again.” My words come out steady with a capable voice as if I am actually a leader that knows what I’m doing.
“Good,” Grace says, “Because this is the grand, elaborate nation of Oriare, where everyone has at least two faces.”
We make our way down the curvy and thin residential road. Everywhere we go people continue to watch and whisper. Grace sighs and murmurs we would not be attracting nearly as much attention if the guards were not following us. Adira murmurs back she doubts that is true as are weapons aren’t exactly standard issue, so Grace retorts she should open her eyes and look around.
Adira and I both do, and while no one has any weapons similar to one of ours, they do not look like I thought they would. Granted, I’ve mainly encountered only soldiers through Jo’s memories. Aside from the queen, I do not think she liked to converse with the noble class, and I do not think I can blame her. Their outfits are outlandishly lavish and the topics they speak about even more so. Many of the woman are wearing comically large bonnets and bows, and the men have so many jewels embroidered on their jackets and coats, the sunlight occasionally blinds me as it shines off of them.
Grace says this is a city of never-ending desires. No matter how much its citizens have, it is never enough. They are always hungry for more. The more obnoxiously large, overly extravagant, and ghastly expensive the things are, the more its people want it. “I can’t tell you how many people have come up to me here and asked me where I bought my scythe because they think it would be a perfect fit with the rest of their living room décor ,” Grace finishes as we arrive at the store. I look at Grace with complete disbelief. I cannot imagine anyone wanting to have a scythe in their living room let alone it matching the décor, but she insists it is true.
When we arrive, I am a little relieved. Considering the place has been vacant for months, the store from the outside appears to have been maintained exceptionally well. There is a large forest green banner with only the name “Kenley’s” stitched in gold thread. The door and steps to the doorway are made out of dark brown wood and despite appearing a little worn are clean and free from dirt and dust. Since the neighbors do not appear to want to talk to us, we figure we will try our luck inside the shop first. I turn the doorknob which was once a shiny gold but has since been worn down, and it is locked.
Grace asks the guards to give her the key, but they do not have it. She then proceeds to throw an onslaught of insults and curses there way as she bends down on one knee to study the lock. I try to tell her it is not necessary as I have the perfect armalo for the task, but she does not want to listen to me. She says she needs complete concentration while she is doing this, so I let her be. Maybe jiggling around with the lock for a few minutes will calm her temper a bit.
It doesn’t. The exact opposite result of what I wanted to occur happens. Grace struggles with the lock for several minutes before she gives up in frustration. She starts to hurriedly pace back and forth as she yells at no one in particular that she has never seen a lock she could not pick. I decide to glance over the lock myself while Grace fumes in the background, and there is definitely something weird here. When I touch the lock, the thin layer of magic over it resonates with me and the claw armalo gleams for only a second.
This lock has been magically sealed. Things just keep getting more complicated, and I have way too many unresolved questions. The claw glows as I get ready to use it, and I make a small slash just next to the lock. I stick my hand through and unlock the door from the other side. This does the trick, and the door opens normally when I turn the knob. Adira tells the guards to wait outside, but they are not going to let us in unsupervised. The three of us agree to let one in while the others wait outside.
The inside of the shop is just as clean and maintained as the outside. It is also bare. It is a totally empty room, and there is nothing but dust inside here.
“Are you kidding me?” Grace huffs. Her frustration is understood; I am also upset. The lock was not magically manipulated to protect nothing. That is impossible. No one in their right mind would take such precautions over absolutely nothing.
I start studying the walls to see if we missed something. Something is not right. This building is two stories high with a basement, but there are no stairs at all on the inside. Furthermore, this room is much smaller than the outside led me to believe. It is almost as if parts of the room and building are missing. I inspect the small square we are inside and see a single picture frame with the map of Oriare hanging from one of the walls.
It appears to be a hunter’s map as several animals are drawn by hand in various locations. I step forward to take the picture down but am stopped. These memory events are beginning to happen far too frequently, however, this time I do not believe it was triggered on its own. After I stepped in front of the picture, the floor revealed a bright blue magic circle that enclosed me. The last thing I see as myself is Adira reaching out to grab me, and thus the memory begins.
It is as before in the Briza. I am seeing everything from Jo’s perspective, and I again have no control over my actions. “Where are you going?” I ask a dark-skinned elderly man with a crooked nose I assume is Kenley.
“I’m not like you, Jo,” he responds holding his hand up revealing a pale green dragon mark. He is ignoring the question, but I know I cannot do anything. I wait patiently for the memory to continue. “I’m no fighter. This is only going to get worse my dear; you do know that, yes?”
“I am aware. I also know I cannot do it alone.” Jo’s voice has a strange echo to it. This memory is not like the others. It was forced, so I don’t think it can play naturally.
“I’m afraid I alone can do nothing for you, Jo. You already know all I can teach you,” he says softly. His brown eyes look at her admirably. I honestly feel a bit awkward like I am peeping in uninvited. These two have apparently known each known each other for quite some time, and I appear to be crashing in on their final goodbyes.
“But if I was the anchor?” Jo softly questions. “You would teach me more, wouldn’t you?”
“I would,” Kenley admits. “Does that mean you will challenge the others?”
Jo gives a slight humph of amusement before stating she never will. As far as she can tell, none of us had done anything to deserve it, and she will never kill an innocent person.
“You are too kind; I doubt any of them will hesitate if they knew it was one or the other,” Kenley says.
“I believe you are wrong,” Jo calmly states.
Kenley shakes his head, but there is a little curve in his lips forming the faintest of smiles. “I will miss you, Jo. I truly hope we see each other again.”
“As do I, Kenley. Thank you for all your help,” Jo returns his sentiment.
“If you are ever in the mood to hunt some deer, you know where to find me.” And just like that the memory is over, and I find myself waking up. That’s why his name sounded so familiar. Kenley was Jo’s mentor! She spoke so highly of him; I cannot believe I forgot. My throbbing head is resting on
Adira’s lap and her face lights up when she sees I am awake. I ask Adira how long I was out, and she says it was only a few seconds.
The guard who entered with us is yelling at Grace who is studying the map. Grace is blatantly ignoring him until he grabs her shoulder which is probably the biggest mistake of his life. Grace swiftly clamps down on his hand and begins crushing it, only letting go when we hear loud terrified screams coming from outside.
The guard runs and opens the door. He steps down one stair and is immediately pierced straight through his chest. Blood soaked claws are visible as they have completely penetrated through his skin, bones, and muscles. The devilin lifts him high into the air, and although I fire an arrow as fast as I can after the initial shock wears off, it strikes the hideous creature too late to matter. The monster slams the poor guard down against the road creating a fairly deep crater. The struggle the man had shown is no longer there, and I know he is dead as his body lies motionless.
The devilin roars at me, and I get ready to fire another arrow. However, right as I am about to shoot it, Grace pushes me out of her way and charges with her scythe. Adira follows less than a second later. The two of them are striking the beast hard, but they are not causing any real damage. One of the biggest problems, if not the biggest problem, is that they are not working together.
Adira and Grace keep getting in the other one’s way, and they are both getting in my way as I cannot get a clear shot. Not only that but the hits we do manage to get, do absolutely nothing. I watch in despair as every arrow bounces off like he is made of rock and can’t help but wonder why this is so much more difficult than before. The obvious answer is the Viroca from the cave. It really did have a significant impact.
I am forced out of my thoughts when I see the devilin grab Adira off his back after she tried to take it from behind and slam her down against the ground. This is bad; Adira cannot move. I ready an arrow and out of the corner of my eye see Grace charge. She didn’t even hesitate! But, I also do not see a way we are going to beat this thing. Our attacks aren’t doing anything, so Grace charging in is suicide!
I pull my arrow away from my bow but keep it in my hand. I use the shadow claw to transport right in front of the devilin and fire an arrow quickly directly into his eye. He violently and aggressively swings his arms at us before falling back. I dodge the attacks and grab Adira and run into Grace to prevent her from continuing a fight we are obviously going to lose. I then slash open a portal and we find ourselves back inside the small shop.
Grace wants to argue, so I quickly slam my hand against her mouth and hold it there. I hit her harder than anticipated, but I will apologize later if at all. I mean I did just save her life here.
We stay crouched down in the shop as the devilin searches for us outside. I hear him as he comes closer to the shop, but he stops before coming in. Instead he walks along the road some more. After several minutes of listening to nothing but the brute’s growls and our own beating hearts, the creature leaves.
I peek out the shop window to make sure he is gone before I start breathing normally again and remove my hand from Grace’s face. I turn to face the other two and a soaring pain sears across my face. My cheek is red and tingling, and Grace’s hand is also red. She states how we are even now, but I do not see it that way.
I cannot begin to put into words how taken aback I am by Grace’s behavior, so I show her how angry I am by tackling her to the ground. I’m about to punch her when Adira stops me and tells us both to calm down.
“Even?!” I shout. “Even? I just saved your ass!”
Grace glares at me, and Adira is still trying to pull me off, practically begging me to stop. I reluctantly let go and allow Grace to stand but not without giving her an earful. At least Grace isn’t arguing against any of it. She is taking it all silently, but if she were fighting back, we really would have a serious problem between us. After a few minutes, my anger simmers down a bit, and Adira brings up me passing out before the devilin arrived. I tell her I know where we should go as I pick the map up off the floor. The frame it was in shattered as Grace carelessly cast it aside when the devilin attacked.
“There,” I say as I point to the location of the map with a deer head drawn on it. “That’s where we need to go.”
“And, just like that you know where to go? You do realize that while the map is tee tiny this is in actuality a lot of ground to cover, right?” Grace speaks for the first time since I slammed her down, and of course, her words are coated in attitude.
“Then we better get started,” I say as I brush her off and walk the door to head out onto the streets of Saphira.
Chapter 14
It is hot. The sun is dreadful and our current worst enemy. Sweat is pouring out from all over my body, and the cannonade of insects hitting my face have put me in a fouler mood as the day has gone on. Grace, Adira, and I have been searching this dense forest for days, and we have found positively nothing.
By the time we find a small stream to rest, all of our limits have been reached. We have not been talking recently, but I know the quiet will not last much longer. Our actions have certainly been passive aggressive enough to ensure a fight will eventually break out again, whether it be Grace’s murmuring, Adira’s constant extracting and retracting her hidden blade, or my own aggravated humphs.
If there is one thing I have learned thus far, it is Grace has a tendency to get bored very quickly. Thus she looks for new ways to amuse herself, which often comes at either Adira’s or my expense. I usually take it in stride because none of her antics have ever done any actual harm. Adira on the other hand does not, and consequently a massive fight broke out yesterday evening after Grace cracked a small egg on Adira’s head.
Within seconds of the fight escalating to loud shouting they both called on me to settle the argument, but for the first time since I’ve known them, I refused. True, Grace was being childish, and yes, Adira took things very seriously and wasn’t exactly a fun person to have around. If these two cannot see they are both being difficult for no reason, they are idiots, and I know for a fact they are not idiots. The truth is they both already know these things. They want me to pick a side. I refused, so now they are not only mad at each other, but both are mad at me.
I made a mistake and zoned out while resting, or maybe my mistake is coming back to reality. Regardless, Grace and Adira are bickering again, and I am exhausted of hearing it. I cannot imagine how much energy these two waste fighting each other for absolutely no reason. It is not like they accomplish anything from it. I’m sore. My body is covered in red marks from all the insect bites, and these two are engaging in another pointless dispute.
I don’t know if it’s the heat, the maddening shouting from those two, or a combination of them both, but I lose it. I start yelling every obscenity and curse I can think with little thought as to whether it make sense or not. It just feels so incredibly good to yell at them. By the time I’m done, Adira and Grace have eyes as wide as plates and mouths agape completely astonished that I tore them to shreds.
I want to continue. I want to let them know how much of a pain keeping them alive is, but I am stopped by Grace asking what something is behind me. I tell her to cut the crap with her pranks, but Adira also asks what is behind me. I take a quick look, and to my shock, there actually is something behind me. It is a sign.
“Was that here this whole time?” Adira asks.
“No way. It poofed here out of nowhere,” Grace comments.
Good because for a split second there I thought I had lost my mind. When we first arrived, this area had nothing but trees and the stream. Now a random sign is standing tall in between two of the massive forest trees. I walk up to read it, and I actually do think I’m losing my mind. This sign is specifically addressing us, the daughters of light, life, and death! I look at Grace and Adira to make sure I’m not the only one seeing this, and they are equally as shocked. If anyone were to walk by us right now, they would see three women with incredib
ly dumb expressions on our faces.
I turn back to the sign and read it aloud, “Please follow the signs’ arrows to find me. We have much to discuss. -Kenley. P.S. Don’t worry. This isn’t a trap.”
“Is this man serious?” Grace asks incredulously.
“How did he get the signs here?” Adira asks as she attempts to touch the sign. It fizzles and blurs in response. “It is not actually here. This is just an illusion,” she says it like it makes perfect sense and all is right with the world.
It’s not. I’m not too comfortable with following the signs because it screams trap. Grace voices her support for my stance, but Adira argues this is why we are out here in the first place. In the end, Grace and I cannot come up with a better plan, so we go along with Adira’s and follow the arrows on the signs. What we find as we exit the thick forest to a large landing surprises all three of us.
Beyond the tall grass is a great lake shimmering from the sunlight with magnificent mountains in the distance behind it. Small birds fly across the long body of water, occasionally ducking into it from above and reemerging with a tasty meal. A single tiny log cabin built with foundation lifting its floors a little above the grass is the only sign of human life here, and it is truly beautiful.
The serenity of our surroundings is affecting the three us. We are no longer tense nor determined to punch the others in the face. Instead, we calmly walk to the cabin sitting only a few paces away from the lake. Kenley is sitting on the front porch in a comfortable looking chair, drinking strong coffee by the smell of it, and there are three more chairs around the small table. After he greets us with a wave of his free hand, he offers for us to sit and drink with him.
