Mid-dress, Bredych stopped and sighed. “What’s the number one rule of a job?”
“To serve Justice, always.”
“And the second?”
“Don’t get caught. Which is why we should leave.”
Her brother shook his head. “This is why you’ll be in training a good while longer. If we leave now, we look guilty. We become suspects. If we stay and help, no one looks twice at us. Why would the people who started the fire risk their lives to put it out?”
“Bad enough to kill someone, but now I gotta clean it up, too?” She smiled, but her brother ignored it. For once, his comedic-self hid as the situation’s seriousness loomed over them. With a shrug, Shendra tugged on sturdier breeches, followed by her boots. “What do we do with our packs?”
“Leave them. If the fire takes the inn, everything we brought can be replaced. Besides, folks serious about helping won’t care about their belongings. They’ll be rushing to help stop the fire.”
“’Course…Sellin’ girls as slaves is somethin’ the honest, moral people of this town can ignore. The same moral folks who’ll abandon all to save the town,” she muttered. Her cheekiness stayed with her until their eventual appearance outside the inn.
Lady Essia’s burned bright enough to give clear visibility across the town center, giving Shendra a glimpse of how many people stood around in bedclothes and blankets, their limbs held rooted in place by fear. Children clung to mothers as their fathers carried buckets of water towards danger. Two stories of angry red threatened nearby buildings with every gust of wind, and two buildings nearby had already succumbed to the flames’ hunger.
How many people would be homeless before the night was over? How many would be hungry by winter without a home or a job to provide for their family? Shendra whispered, “I didn’t mean this.”
“Then help,” snapped Bredych as he tugged on her arm.
At the town’s well, sweaty arms thrust buckets of water towards anyone waiting. Like her brother, Shendra carried the pail where directed, then tossed the water on the flames before running back to the well for more. Her muscles enjoyed the workout, monotonous though it was, until the heat caught up with her.
Climbing through the rubble to reach flames left her skin and clothing black as coal. The rubble, still hot in most places, left burns across her calves and ankles, and the overwhelming temperatures near the flames left sweat pouring down her face, where the soot stung her eyes and nose.
After the last dump, she paused at a bench to catch her breath. Someone sat silently beside her, their shoulders wrapped in a torn quilt that reeked of smoke. When Shendra took a longer glance, she recognized her as one of Lady Essia’s women and bolted upright.
“Don’t go yet. I haven’t had a chance to thank you,” said the young woman.
Shendra hesitated. This woman could place her in the building before the fire and not in the inn as Bredych would have the bar matron believe.
“I know what you are. Well, what he is. You’ve the mark, but you’ve also got your hair. Do some Amaskans choose to keep their hair?”
As the young woman spoke, her voice hardened and Shendra fought the urge to run. “I don’t know what yer talkin’ about—”
“Please. You both were sent here to kill my mistress. It’s not the first time someone’s been sent to kill her, or the first time someone’s been successful.”
Her feet stumbled on solid ground as Shendra backed away. For all that the young woman appeared young, an age and wisdom in her eyes spoke of something else.
How can she know of the Order’s plans? And what did she mean by it not being the first time Lady Essia has died? I have to find Bredych. We need to leave. Now.
“If you leave now, does it count as finishing the job?”
When her fingers went to her belt, no dagger was looped there—it remained upstairs with the rest of their belongings. Rather than give away her frustration, Shendra smiled, a bright smile like she lay resting on a summer’s day at the shore rather than facing the destruction of a town. “When my partner and I heard a woman was breakin’ the law by indulgin’ in slavery, we came to see what we’d find, is all. Plenty of young women like yerself bein’ forced into pleasin’ men and sold across the Harren Sea. That ain’t the way of Sadai. The Thirteen have some strict rules ’bout that sorta thing.”
“They do. They also have some strict rules about killing people. Or does that only apply to non-Amaskans?”
Shendra’s stomach tensed in response to the question. “No, murder is against the Thirteen for everyone.”
Around them, people fought a losing battle against the flames, which had spread to third and fourth buildings. When the young woman spoke again, her voice was level and calm. “My mistress may have been misunderstood, but at least she never lied to us…or herself. She took us off the streets and gave us a job, a way to make a living. I wasn’t starving anymore.”
The faraway look in the woman’s eyes was one Shendra recognized. The ache in one’s stomach without food, the desperation to soften the pangs with anything—edible or not, and the willingness to do absolutely anything to sleep somewhere soft and warm…
“She gave us an education in more than just sex. I can read and write and do sums, more than most of this town can do, and she gave me that. What did you give me? My home burned down, my mistress dead and job gone, and everything that I’ve ever owned in a pile of rubble. You didn’t save us. You sentenced us to death.”
At some point, the young woman left. Shendra never noticed as she stared at the fire in silence. Saving people…it’s all she’d ever wanted to do. While killing people was technically wrong, the Order had shown her a new path to helping people. Serving the Gods by meting out Justice was a holy mission…wasn’t it?
A spark hit her bare arm, and she flinched. When did the fire move that close? she thought as Bredych trudged over to her.
“We have to go,” he said, his voice scratchy and hoarse.
“I thought we were helpin’.”
“We were, but the wind’s picked up. There’s no stopping the fire now. We need to leave.”
“No, I thought we were helpin’ them.”
Bredych frowned. “And we did, Shendra, but unless you want to burn to death, we need to go.”
She raised her head to take a better glance around her. Fire burned everywhere. Not a building was spared. She coughed in the thick smoke, and her brother pulled her to her feet.
“The townsfolk are fleeing through the front gate. The fire hasn’t touched it yet. But there’s a breech in the walls where the fire’s been. We should take it while we can.”
Shendra nodded.
Once again, her brother was pulling her to safety.
As they ran, she was fifteen again. Hungry, hurt, and wishing it would all go away.
The side gate had allowed them to avoid the townsfolk as they fled Tovias, and when they’d arrived at a farm house outside of town, sooty and smelling of smoke, the farmer had set off for the fire, leaving them in the capable hands of his wife.
Several baths and meals later, Shendra pulled her brother aside and disclosed the conversation she’d had with the young woman…though she’d left out the part about Lady Essia possibly being alive. All that would do was kick a hornet’s nest.
“Most of Sadai knows Amaskan’s shave their head and bear circular tattoos. I’m not surprised she worked that out. The rest, well, I’m not surprised by that either. If you live with your captor long enough, the only way to survive is to convince yourself they’re good people. Depending upon when she was taken, this girl might have truly believed Lady Essia helped her,” said Bredych as they sat outside the farm house.
“She blamed me, Bredych. Said I’d taken it all away from her and accused me of murder.”
Bredych nodded. “Most people will. This calling isn’t for the weak of heart. We help those who need it most. We are the Thirteen’s protectors. As scholars of the Thirteen, we understand the laws b
etter than non-scholars do. Would you rather those young girls be sold to men as slaves?”
“No, but—”
“There’s no but, Shendra. Those girls won’t be abandoned. The town will look after them. They will rebuild Tovias, and those girls will have a chance at a real life now. Because of us.”
Her brother was so convinced. His eyes glowed with the belief that he served Justice, the belief in something greater than himself, and she envied him his ignorance.
He glanced at the sky where the clouds were clearing. “We should head out soon. The Order will be waiting for our report.”
They’d be waiting for her answer.
If it was too late now to back out, perhaps she could change the Order. Maybe they didn’t have to be contract killers. There had to be other ways of serving Justice…
Their reports were given to the Amaskan Masters separately, each giving a detailed account of what happened, why they thought it happened, and what actions and decisions could’ve been improved upon. It was the latter that left Shendra tongue-tied as she found herself floundering in guilt. While Master Elish asked questions intended to derive the facts from her, he gave no indication of whether or not her guilt was warranted. His face remained an expressionless mask as he took down the accountings.
After she’d relayed the details of the job, he asked, “Do you wish to be an Amaskan?”
A simple question—one she’d pondered over the entire journey home—and yet, her stomach churned when he asked it. Finally, she spoke. “I do.”
“Why?”
It shouldn’t have been unexpected, yet it was, and she swallowed the bile at the back of her throat. “As Amaskans, we’re imperfect. We work in the service of Justice, but we’re not gods. We don’t know if someone’s guilty. So we research and investigate. We do the best we can to help others, which is all anyone can do. Bredych has this way about ’im like he knows some secret truth. Like everythin’ he does is right.”
“And you don’t?”
“No, Master. But I believe the Order is tryin’ to do what’s right the best way they can. I’m nineteen. I have a lot to learn still ’bout life and Justice. Maybe my doubts come from lack of wisdom.”
Master Elish tilted his head. “So you admit to having doubts?”
Shendra didn’t want to answer, but while traveling home, she’d promised herself to be honest. If the gods wanted her to serve, she would serve. If her truth kept her from that, it would be Their decision and not hers. “Everyone should have doubts. If we don’t, we ain’t thinkin’ enough ’bout what we’re doin’.”
“And your wish to change the Order?”
Her cheeks grew warm. It was a thought she’d shared with Bredych, one not intended for their Master’s hearing. Of course her brother had shared it. He was loyal to the Order.
“I still wish it. I wish only to improve us in seekin’ Justice for those who need it.”
He glanced to his left where the other Masters sat in stony silence. “Some believe nineteen is too young to be an Amaskan. Most trainees do not become journeymen members until later in life. You, yourself, have commented on how emotional this test was for you with how close it has been to your past. Do you feel you are ready to join the Order, Shendra? There is no shame in training further.”
“I’m ready.”
Master Elish nodded, his face relaxed, yet smooth and expressionless. “You may wait in the hall.”
With no indication of how her test had gone from her master or the others, she sat on a stone bench outside, her body too tense to feel the stone beneath her. No one had commented on the magic or the chathula’s existence, nor had they questioned Lady Essia’s use of it. Those conversations would happen behind closed doors without her, and for once, she was glad of the fact.
Bredych had followed her report with his, which took twice as long as her own. By the time the door knob moved, her stress had shifted to hunger and fatigue. She stood up as her brother, face down, exited the room. Before she could call out to him, Master Elish gestured for her to follow him inside.
Now that the report had been made, many smiles greeted her as she entered the room. The masters gathered at a long table that sat behind two chairs, the ones she and her master had used during her report. Frowns decorated a face or two, especially once Master Elish turned both chairs to be included in the circle rather than facing each other.
“Take your seat, please,” he said, and she claimed it with a slight tremble.
Did the smiles and chair turning mean she’d made it? Or was it intended to put her off guard?
“Shendra Abner of Sadai, you have sat the training for entrance into the Order of Amaska, a most sacred calling serving Justice before all, is this correct?”
“I-It is.”
“Shendra Abner of Sadai, have you successfully completed your test?” asked Master Elish.
Technically she had. Her tongue thickened in her mouth. “I-I have.”
Master Elish smiled as he glanced at the other masters. “It is with this knowledge that I recommend Shendra Abner of Sadai be granted entrance into the Order of Amaska.”
A woman near the sun’s age shook her head, her wrinkled face bunching up as she peered at Shendra. “The girl’s brother doesn’t think she’s ready. What have you to say to that?”
It was a punch to the gut, and she bit her lip to keep the emotion from her face. Not ready? When did he think that?
“Her brother worries about her doubts, but I say it is Amaskan Bredych who is not ready—not ready to seek the position he does. He believes fiercely and is loyal to a fault, but he fails to see the long plan. Shendra seeks to serve Justice and ensure we all do to the best of our abilities. It is natural to doubt—”
“We’ve heard this, Elish,” the old woman said and pointed at Shendra. “I want to know what she thinks.”
“A-about what, Master?”
“About your brother’s lack of trust in your abilities.”
Shendra swallowed hard as sweat rolled down her back. “I don’t have an answer for that. Perhaps it’s what Master Elish has said—my brother sees my natural questionin’ and doubt as a weakness rather than a strength.”
The old woman raised an eyebrow, but tilted her head to Master Elish. “Any other questions for this trainee?” he asked, and when no one spoke up, he smiled. “Rise, trainee.”
Shendra stood, her shoulders square and legs straight, though one knee trembled for a moment.
“Formerly Trainee Shendra Abner of Sadai, the Masters have voted and you are being granted membership into the Order of Amaska. From hence forward, you are Journeyman Shara of Amaska.”
The hot needle glowed, the color reminding her of Tovias, and her eyes widened. Master Elish seized the needle, though he paused at the scabbed over wound on her jaw. “This must be the mark you spoke of.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Let us give you a proper mark.”
Like a cat scratch on fire, the needle burned as it marked her flesh with a circle—infinite wisdom given to Justice by the Gods themselves. So focused was she on the mark that she almost didn’t feel it when the sharp knife swept across her head, shearing the hair from her. Waves of black hair fell to the floor as someone stepped forward and shoved a wad of cotton into her hand.
“Hold this against the wound.”
She followed the instruction, expecting something soothing, but instead, the mark stung and her eyes watered in response.
“Now this one.”
Shendra—now Shara—followed this instruction slower, but discovered it was the aloe she’d been expecting. A few more passes and her head was bare like everyone else’s.
For better or worse, this was her family and had been since she was fifteen-years-old. Perhaps she would make it better. Perhaps she would die trying.
After all, she was an Amaskan.
She served no one but Justice.
But first, she was going to have a conversation with that brother of h
ers…
After burning the City of Tovias to the ground, Shendra, now Shara of the Order of Amaska, has trained hard as a journeyman. “Pretty Poison” finds us years in her future tracking rumors of a murderer in the new City of Tovias. What she discovers is magic powerful enough to burn through wood, metal, and people. Can she stop the poisonous spread of such magics before the town is destroyed? Or will her trip to Tovias cause it to once again burn?
Find out in Wayward Magic, Magic Underground Anthologies Book II.
About the Author
International award-winning and bestselling speculative fiction author and artist Raven Oak is best known for Amaskan’s Blood (2016 Ozma Fantasy Award Winner, 2016 Epic Awards Finalist, & 2019 Reader’s Choice Award Winner), Amaskan’s War (2018 UK Wishing Award YA Finalist), and Class-M Exile. She’s an active member of SFWA and has short stories published in multiple anthologies and magazines. Raven spent most of her K-12 education doodling stories and 500 page monstrosities that are forever locked away in a filing cabinet.
When she’s not writing, she’s getting her game on, indulging in cartography and painting, or staring at the ocean. She lives in the Seattle area with her husband, and their three kitties who enjoy lounging across the keyboard when writing deadlines approach.
For more information about the author, please visit: www.ravenoak.net
Don't forget to grab your copy of next anthology at
www.amazon.com/ebook/dp/B08274LSJK.
Shaman Rising
Alesha Escobar
“Shaman Rising” is about hidden magic and a secret war between mages and dark mages. Corabelle Lansing is a simple kitchen girl in the king's household—or so she thinks. In an attempt to save a friend, she performs a healing, but all magic is banned. As a witch-hunter closes in on her, and she's dragged into a battle she never asked to be a part of, Corabelle must escape to safety with the only people who can help her.
Hidden Magic Page 75
