by Brindi Quinn
“Would you like to take the lead?” was Ardette’s sarcastic answer. “Be my guest.”
Rend walked forward a few more paces and stomped her foot. “Are there no people here either? When will we encounter something akin to a market?!”
“Yes, Rend, let’s just go strolling into town with a big banner overhead saying, ‘We’ve got the Heart of Salvation! Come and have a peek!’ OBVIOUSLY we aren’t following the path most traveled.” Ardette slitted his eyes at her. “Is that all right with you, or would you prefer I lead you someplace a bit more ‘lively’?”
She growled, but ultimately quieted down. I think she’d just been a little more cranky than usual due to a lack of fruit. She and Nyte had been living off of dried kingberries for days.
Ardette had just started to promenade past her, looking very pleased with himself for shutting her up, when a voice boomed out of nowhere,
“IN THE NAME OF THE MYSTRESS, PROCLAIM YOUR IDENTITIES, PROVINCE OF ORIGIN, AND INTENTIONS!”
The voice took even the far-hearing Elves by surprise. In instinctive response, we all backed into each other. The fighters of our group gripped their various weapons.
A cloaked man, to whom the surprising voice belonged, rounded the edge of a nearby rock pile.
“Damn,” mumbled Ardette. He glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll take care of this, but prepare yourselves. We’ll have to fight, should I fail to make a good impression.”
He strolled right up to the man and lowered his hood.
I waited in silence, desperately hoping that the rude Daem had somehow secretly learned something in the way of manners or tolerance for authority during the past weeks.
“I am Sowpa of the Ela’chian Kingdom. I am leading a caravan to Kethro. We request safe passage.”
He even sounded slightly respectful. That was a relief.
“Sowpa?” I whispered to Darch. “Wasn’t that the name of Ardette’s brother?”
Darch nodded, leaving his eyes straight ahead, sharp and alert. He wasn’t a fighter, but it was clear that he was ready for a fight.
“Sowpa?” questioned the guard. He scanned the rest of us. “You all should travel farther south. It’s not safe for civilians here.”
“Yes, of course I’m aware, but they wanted to take a ‘scenic route’. Something far from the city. You know how it is, I’m sure. What the boss says goes. I couldn’t very well turn away paying clients, now could I? Guides hardly make the handsome sum you boys do.”
Ardette’s tone was a little too snarky.
This didn’t sit well with the guard. He leaned in, showing off a menacing side that had been lying in wait. “Take your travelers and LEAVE. This place isn’t safe for civilians. I won’t tell you again.”
By this time, six other men had joined the guard on either side. All clad in black Druelcan cloaks, they now began to toy with the hilts of their sabers. It was clear that they were itching – itching to start something.
Ardette either took no notice or didn’t care. In a tone that reflected how tiresome he thought the ordeal, he said,
“I assure you we can take care of ourselves. Your concern is vastly appreciated; however-”
The guard cut him off, now even more menacing.
“You know what, Sowpa? I don’t think our concern is appreciated. I think you’re a smug little bastard, and I think you need to go before we show you what happens to those that disrespect Lady Mystress’ personal detail.”
Uh-oh. I bit my tongue in Ardette’s place, but it would do no good.
“Oh? A bastard, am I? Personal detail? Hm. You say so, but ‘Lady Mystress’ is no where in sight, is she? So aren’t you really just a patrolman? Quite the brutish profession if you ask me.”
“Why you-”
“Sowpa!” Grotts called in a roar. “Whaddaya think yer doin’?”
The interjection was meant as a helpful reprimand, but it ended up being the fuse that sparked nothing but trouble.
At the scold, all seven sets of patrolman eyes flashed to the great man. It would have been fine if they would have stopped there. There was no danger in them seeing Grotts – he was, more or less, a believable traveler. Great in stature, sure, but clearly a Sape nonetheless.
The true danger came when their eyes started drifting.
I held my breath and wondered what the chances were that all of them were nearsighted. If only the wandering mist could block them from accurately comprehending what we were. These hopeful thoughts flooded my mind, but . . .
In the end, it was too much to ask for.
“Wait a minute,” said one of them suddenly. “What kinda caravan’s this guy transporting, anyway? Doesn’t that lady there sorta look like a . . .”
His eyes had found Rend. Our hoods were all up, but hood couldn’t conceal her Elven height and stature. Scardo let out a small gurgle beside me.
This is bad! This is really, really bad!
“AN ELF?!” snarled the first man with great detestation. He let his saber out halfway.
One might argue that this sort of response was to be expected. Druelca was warring with the Elven kingdom, after all, and that meant that Rend and Nyte would be viewed as enemies. Thus, the thing that caught me off guard was not his willingness to fight, but the hatred behind the stranger’s words. It was a strange thing to comprehend, considering that their ‘Lady Mystress’ herself was thought to be an Elf.
The patrolman continued, “What do you think you’re doing with Elves, Sowpa? You have to know what happens to Elves that trespass into Farrowel!” A sadistic smile lit his open mouth. “Not to mention what happens to those who accompany them. All right, men, let’s-”
But the patrolman would never finish his sentence. He erupted into a cloud of black smoke at Ardette’s saber tip before another word could pass his teeth.
“YAAAAH!”
All at once, his remaining comrades charged us.
“Aaah!” Kantú let out a squeak and clung to Darch, but the rest of the guard reacted as quickly as they always did.
It was only a matter of time before every last Druelcan was taken down.
When it was all over, Ardette let out a groan. “I don’t know why I even bothered. Those idiots are all the same. Next time we’ll swing first. Save ourselves the hassle.”
That sounded like a decent plan, but our next two encounters with Druelca wouldn’t come to pass as Ardette had predicted, for each time it was they, not we, who ended up swinging first, without even bothering to approach for identification.
The second of these encounters actually left some members of our group winded.
“Either they’re gettin’ better, or we’re getting’ weaker,” huffed Grotts.
“Tell me about it!” said Darch, panting in a similar manner. He wiped a few beads of sweat from his brow.
Rend watched him with a scowl.
“You have not a need to pant! You have not even aided in the battle!” she said.
“Whew! But I’m telling you, just watching is nerve-wracking! You guys get so intense that I can barely take it!”
Nyte let out a laugh, but Ardette’s sour expression grew.
“Yes,” said the Daem guide. “Yuck it up while you can. We’re nearly at the doorstep of the enemy, and you’re all parading about like giddy idiots!”
Scardo nodded fervently. “I agree that we should be more cautious and spend less time making merry. Now is the time to prepare ourselves. We still haven’t come up with much of plan, have we? I think we are all in agreement that Aura should stay behin-”
I had to stop him from bringing it up. Me ‘staying behind’ was not an option.
“But, Scardo,” I interrupted, “it’s good to ‘make merry’ at least a little bit. Everyone’s been so gloomy lately because of the mist. Don’t you think it’s a good idea to take those times when we can? If we just focus on what’s to come, we’ll only get more depressed.”
“Oh!” Scardo tipped his head. “Why, Miss Heart, I suppose-”
&nbs
p; But he was interrupted by a raspy voice. A voice that hadn’t spoken in very long time. A voice I’d all but forgotten about; though now, with it once again ringing in the space around me, I remembered the way it pricked my skin.
“Heed my warning, Aura Telmacha Rosh!”
Kantú had been picking at her toes, oblivious to the current conversation. She’d been fine and normal, but when I looked at her now, there was no mistaking it. The Spirit of In-between had once again taken over her body.
The bird had been absent for some time now. After that night in Carpar, I’d only seen it circle us handful of times. Each time it would appear for only a minute or two before flying away into the distance. And then it had just stopped appearing altogether. How long had it been now? A week maybe?
“Oh joy,” said Ardette joylessly, “you’ve returned to us.”
I agreed wholeheartedly with his negative attitude on this one. Damn bird.
“What message have you to deliver?” asked Scardo. “We will hear you out.” Even now, he was still being respectful towards the deceased elder.
The Spirit continued, “The JUDAS will be found out before moon’s end! Prepare your heart, Aura Telmacha Rosh! Be wary of friend, not foe!”
“Judas, again?!” I asked. “I thought-”
With that, Kantú slumped.
I breathed through my nose and tried not to let annoyance grip me.
“Wonder – what – that – meant.” I said the words slowly and through closed teeth. Trying to hold back the flood of rant was quite a struggle.
“Who cares?” hissed Rend. She eyed Kantú like it was the Squirrelean’s fault.
Who cared? I did. Despite how much my pride wanted me to dismiss the cryptic message, I cared.
After the memory retrieval, I’d assumed that the ‘Judas’ had been either Nyte or Elder Pietri. In a way, both of them had made it ‘into my heart’, and both of them had offered some form of betrayal. It seemed only likely that one of them had been the culprit the Spirit had so long been referring to. After all, following the retrieval, the bird had significantly laid off, and it had even entirely left us alone for days now.
But both Nyte and Elder Pietri had already been ‘found out’, hadn’t they?
There went that theory.
Either the Spirit’s messing with us, or there’s someone else.
“Hm. I’d go with ‘messing with us’,” said Ardette under his breath.
Then why’s it been so adamant? If it was messing with us, wouldn’t it have let it go by now?
This time Ardette didn’t respond.
Maybe – just maybe – my argument had done something to convince him.
Ardette turned his back to me, and I returned to actively helping the others recover from the skirmish. Scardo was busy issuing orders. We’d all been traveling together so long that his guidance wasn’t necessary, yet we let him have his fun. At least, I let him have his fun. I couldn’t really speak for the others. Quite possibly they were all just too tired and mist-drained to protest.
“Grotts, you hold her there. Yes. Nyte, your pack. Onward, then? This way, if you please.”
Darch, Nyte and I took our places and chugged along behind him and Ardette while Rend and a Kantú-toting-Grotts took the rear.
That day, the mist grew stronger at a much more rapid pace than it had before. By late afternoon, I was even forced to sing a lightsong so that the dreariness would not start to hinder our pace. The light, Scardo warned, was sure to alert enemies, but we’d been having such a victorious time with all of our encounters, that no one took his side. We’d put out the light when we closer to the fortress.
“ . . . Light this song with spirit’s sun!”
It had been a long time since those words had ridden my tongue. Though words aren’t known to hold a taste quality – which is peculiar since they pass over every ridge of a person’s tongue on the way out – the words of that ariando somehow held a sweet essence. Were it not impossible, I’d almost claim to have tasted them on that day.
Holding lesser ariandos like the lightsong were now easy for me. I was able to carry it all night without feeling fatigued. It was funny remembering the first times I’d used it. The first times I’d put my everything into song and received only a small amount in return. But now I’d received the Song of Salvation and I’d received a song of healing, and my vessel – my body – had grown; stretched to withstand the strain of power.
Power.
That word always reminded me of . . .
Warmth.
Nyte.
My orb might have pushed away the fragments of mist, and therefore, the despair it brought, but it did little to push away my affliction.
Mine.
I struggled to cap the blooming impulse.
“Miss Havoc?” Nyte spoke my name at the worst possible time.
“A-ahm?”
“Let us go speak with the Daem. I wish to ask him some things. Would you accompany me?”
Accompany. Warmth. Accompany. Warmth. Warmth. Warm-
“We’d love to!” answered Darch enthusiastically. He grabbed my arm and pulled me along in a hop, humming all the way.
Nyte followed along behind, grinning and unaware of my inner turmoil.
As we approached, Ardette threw up a lazy, upturned hand. “Oh? Come for a visit, have you?”
But really, he had to have known we were coming. My thoughts weren’t exactly obscure.
Nyte lost no time. “When you speak of ‘at the doorstep’ do you mean-”
“No, you buffoon.” Ardette sighed in annoyance. “It’s a figure of speech. I don’t actually mean we’re literally standing on their-”
“Kah!” Nyte glowered. “I know. That is not what I wish to ask you.”
“Oh? Have another wish, do you? I’m afraid I only grant one per customer. I’m not a genie, you know. I haven’t got a lamp that you can just go-”
“Ardette!” I snapped. “Stop it. You’re driving me crazy!”
He gave a deep laugh. He knew that my ‘craziness’ stemmed not from him, but from Nyte.
“Driving you crazy? At least you don’t have to listen to someone salivating over-”
“ARDETTO!” Darch saved me from the humiliation that would have ensued if Ardette had had his way. “Have you come up with a plan yet?” he continued. “I can’t wait to hear it! Please, please, please, include me! I’ve always wanted to do something exciting like infiltrating a castle! Can you imagine, Aura? Can you?”
I could. And the concept wasn’t nearly as exciting for me.
“A plan, you ask?” said Ardette, jumping kicking away a piece of petrified wood. “Well, I admit I have an idea or two, but as far as a plan . . .”
“Really?” I said. “That’s a relief. I had no idea you were-”
“What? That I was actually working?” He paused and stared into the misty, red sky. “Well, yes, I suppose it is a bit unbelievable, now that you mention it.” Apparently, he viewed this as an accomplishment, for a curl settled upon his mouth.
“What ideas do you have?” I asked and tried hide my eagerness.
Ardette rubbed his eyes wearily.
“Don’t get too excited, my cherry pit. I haven’t figured out what will happen once we’re inside, per se. As I told you before, I never actually encountered your darling sister, only saw her name on the list of active prisoners, so I really haven’t a clue where she is. But as for the infiltration aspect, well, I might know a way. Splitting up is a given; that much even your boy can predict.” Ardette paused not for Nyte’s glare. “What I was considering was having a small group of ‘us’ wait outside, in case trouble arises, while another group sneaks in through the eastern barracks. That way will be the most insecure of all entrances. I don’t know if they’ve got the same git as before, but when I was last there, the stationed commander was a dope, completely hooked on andap.”
“He was ‘hooked’?” Nyte didn’t understand.
“Addicted,” I c
larified. I knew all about that. “People get addicted to andap? But I thought it was vile.”
“It is vile. Worse than vile. Disgusting, putrid, nauseating . . . but it does give a small buzz. Not to mention reviving lost power.”
“A buzz?” I said, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. “So all of the times you’ve complained about it . . . ?”
Darch smiled brightly and beamed. “That’s right! He’s been feeling f-i-n-e!”
“I so don’t feel bad for you anymore.”
“You felt bad for me? I’m touched. Guess I have come to affect you after all.”
“In any case,” – Nyte clearly wanted to move things along – “in what ways can we use the eastern commander’s addiction to our advantage?”
“Well, as you can probably imagine, innocents are, how shall I say, rare around these parts. And if there are no innocents?”
“There are no tears for purification,” I finished, more so thinking aloud than being his pupil.
“That’s right,” he purred. “Good job, my cherry pit.”
“SO,” – again Nyte was uncomfortable – “andap is rare as well. We will use it to lure him?”
“In a way,” said Ardette. His voice dipped at the word ‘way’, and for some reason he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
This odd behavior made me more than a little nervous.
And? Is there more to it than that?
He ignored me.
I scrutinized him, waiting for some hint to come, but none was given.
“We’ll bait him and sneak in?!” Darch clapped his hands. “Wonderful!”
Ardette pursed his lips. “If by ‘we’ you mean you, then no. You’re staying behind.”
“What?! But why?”
“Do I really need to answer that? What could we possibly have to gain from taking you along? You’re a ‘pacifist’, remember? And that means you’re worthless. A lot of good you’d do, running around and examining everyone’s spirits. When we need a witch doctor, we’ll give you a call.”
But Darch wasn’t listening.
“So, Aura, we’ll have to think of a secret signal. If I go like this,” – he made a chopping motion with his hand – “it means there’s a Druelcan right behind you!”
“Scary!” I said, playing along.
