by C S Vass
Fiona’s chains rattled furiously as she tried to break free. “Shut up! Shut up!” she screamed. “Why don’t you untie me and then we’ll see how much you want to prattle on with your nonsense?”
He merely chuckled while he watched her struggle. Fiona looked around the room for something, anything, but all she could see was the desk and Jared. Everything else was outside of the small light offered by the candle. She couldn’t even see where the walls began.
“We’ve already had our little fight for today, so no thank you. But you don’t need to get so worked up. I just wanted to take a little trip down memory lane, but I’m happy to get back to the topic at hand so I can get you out of my sight.” He came back close to her and placed his nose less than an inch from her own. “Now for the last time, tell me about the Forgotten. Or have you gone so brain-dead after selling your cunt for the last two years that you truly don’t know anything?”
She slammed her forehead into his nose with every ounce of energy left in her body. The crunch it made as it broke was more satisfying than warm broth on a cold night.
“You fucking bitch!” he shouted from the ground. “I’ll kill you for that! Don’t think I won’t!” Even in the dim lighting Fiona could see the blood streaming from Jared’s face. Underneath his eyes two dark bruises were already slowly forming.
“That was a big mistake, Sacrosin,” he said as he rose to his feet. He was fuming with rage and bleeding hard. Fiona wondered if he’d be dumb and clumsy enough to allow her to do it again.
“I’m trembling in my boots,” she mocked.
He ignored the comment, and picked the knife up off the table. She eyed it nervously, but tried not to let her anxiety show. “What, you’re going to kill me for smacking your noggin? Is that what the city guard has come to these days?”
“What if I don’t kill you?” Jared said. His voice was low and dangerous. “What if I just think that whoever gave you that scar on your forehead didn’t quite do a good enough job? Maybe I should leave a little more decoration.”
“Stop,” she said. She put her hands on the table to keep them from trembling. Jared approached her breathlessly, and placed the point of the knife directly underneath her eye.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as she eased back into her seat. “Are you worried I might do something you wouldn’t like? Are you worried that I might do something to make you feel demeaned and humiliated, like take your eye? I wouldn’t do that. At least, I wouldn’t have done that before you broke my nose.”
Moving gently but quickly he traced the knife along the skin underneath her eye. For a moment there was nothing. Then she felt it. A warm thin line of blood formed on her face. “You coward,” she said.
His lips barely moved but she saw the smile. “You still haven’t learned your manners.” He placed the knife under her eye once more.
THWACK
The door smacked inward so furiously that the knife fell from Jared’s hand with a clamor onto the floor. “What’s going on in here?” a deep voice boomed. Fiona’s heart raced, as she was certain the noise would have made Jared plunge the knife into her eye whether on purpose or not. The new guard’s face was hidden behind a helm.
“Interrogating the prisoner, Captain,” Jared said quickly.
“What happened to you?”
“This devil bashed her skull into my nose and broke it! We should see her hanged!”
“You allowed yourself to be injured by a prisoner with her hands chained to a table?”
Jared’s face flushed red. “I was provoked into going near her and—”
“We will discuss this later. Get out.”
Jared’s furious eyes found her, and though he didn’t say a word she saw the threat that was in them. She gave him a sly smile, and he left.
Fiona looked towards the newcomer and was surprised to see that she immediately recognized a blue feather in his helm. He was there when she was arrested.
“I had not expected to meet you under these circumstances, Fiona,” he said. Before Fiona had a chance to ask who he was the guard removed his helm. Fiona could have laughed with relief.
* * *
“Martin!”
Before her stood Martin Lightwing. His curly brown hair had been flattened by his helm, but everything else about him was the same as she had last seen him down to his wisp of a mustache and lanky arms.
“It’s been a long time, Fiona. I must admit that I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Did you know I was in the Spotted Weasel?”
“Not until I was arresting you,” Martin replied. Fiona couldn’t help but notice that something seemed off. This was still Martin, but he was different. His voice was colder and his eyes were darker than when she had last seen him.
“I had all but given up hope,” he said. “After you left we had no news of you whatsoever. Nobody knew if you were alive or dead.”
Fiona sighed. If he expected to guilt her after all of this time then Martin Lightwing would be in for a big disappointment. “I gave all the explanation I could before I left. I had something imp—”
“Why were you consorting with a known criminal organization in the Spotted Weasel?”
Fiona felt as though Martin had just slapped her. She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to offer me a cup of wine and untie me first?” Her voice was a growl.
“After you assaulted one of my respected soldiers, no I think not. Now tell me about the —”
“Respected soldier! That was Jared, Martin. I know Haygarden hasn’t fallen so low as to think of him with respect. But in case you hadn’t noticed let me point out to you that he was nearly about to pop out one of my eyeballs before you so kindly interrupted us.”
“I ask you again, why were you speaking with the Forgotten?”
“Martin, what is this? It’s me! Untie me so we can speak normally. If you’re still mad I left I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like this because you don’t like the decision I made two years ago.”
A flash of anger lit Martin’s face, but it only lasted as long as bolt of lightning. “I have a city to look after, though I’m sure you’re unaware because you found it fit to leave Haygarden as hard times fell upon us. Let me give you a little update. I have orders coming from above and I never know if they’re from Sandra’s court or a Tellosian mouthpiece. Now in the actual city these damn rune-bombs are killing civilians left and right while false-mages are ripping off the locals and offering them common herbs that are supposed to solve their woes.”
“So tying me to a table is going to help that situation how?” she asked bitterly.
“Meanwhile,” he went on as if he had not heard her. “I have the Forgotten seizing up every illegal market in the city, growing their coffers, and profiting off of the plight of the people. So forgive me, Fiona, if I don’t exactly seem overly pleased to see someone who used to at least pretend to care about Haygarden consorting with our enemies in the shadows, especially since you didn’t even see fit to let me know that you’re in the city.”
“I’ve been back for barely two days!” she shouted. “Can you please stop pitying yourself long enough to see that we’re on the same side?”
“How do I know that Fiona? I don’t know what’s happened to you in two years. You of all people should understand that it’s those closest to you who can do the most damage with their betrayals.”
If her hands had been free she would have slapped him in the face.
“That was unworthy of you, Captain.”
He at least had the grace to look abashed. He drummed his fingers on the table for a long while without looking at her.
“Let’s stop the games,” he said eventually. “I know what you were doing with the Forgotten. I know you want their help to find Rodrick.”
“Oh?” Fiona said. “So confident now?”
“What else would you be doing there?” Martin said. “I have to warn you though. You should not work with them, Fiona. They are a ruthless lot. You do
n’t know what kind of cruelty they’re capable of. If you did you would not be making deals with them.”
Fiona thought of Kevin Lovewood’s bruised body locked in that room.
“Fiona,” he sighed. The mask seemed to drop from his face. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’m going to have you thrown in prison. Of course you will be free to go today. But you need to understand. This isn’t the same city that you left two years ago. When Duke Redfire ruled and Geoff Hightower was at his side things were so much better. But now the Duke is dead and Hightower is in Laquath.”
“Things will turn out alright,” she said. “But Martin, I have to find him. I have to.”
“You don’t,” Martin said, and for one odd moment she thought that he might cry. “You can let it go, Fiona. You can move on with your life. You can go to Sun Circle and help Sandra. You can go back to your old manor in the Leaf District and spend your days drinking tea if you want. You don’t have to chain yourself to your brother just because he did a bad thing.”
Fiona shook her head. Martin didn’t understand, but why did she expect that he would? Nobody did. Nobody but her dealt with the sleepless nights that Rodrick had caused her. Nobody but her had a constant ball of anxiety throbbing in their stomach. Nobody but her had to deal with the agonizing image of Rodrick’s face swimming into their imagination, unexpected and heartbreaking, that left her with the single purpose of killing him and putting that era of her life behind her.
“You think me ignorant to your troubles,” Martin said. He wasn’t looking at her. “Perhaps I am. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Only you can choose your own destiny, Fiona. Nobody else can pick it for you. You’re not responsible for the things that have happened to you, but you are responsible for how you react to them.”
“Then we have something we can agree on,” Fiona said. “I’m responsible, and I take full responsibility. I will do whatever it takes, whatever I have to do, to make sure that I see Rodrick dead. After that’s done I can worry about whatever else is to come. But until then, my life has that one objective. Please don’t interrupt me, Martin. You’re a good person, and I am glad to have seen you again. But I won’t hesitate to take down anyone who gets in my way.”
Martin rose and after a moment’s silence spat on the ground. “Good to see you,” he muttered as he walked into the surrounding darkness and disappeared from view.
Chapter Seven
Several days had passed since she was released from Martin Lightwing’s prison. It was sunset, which always held such beauty from the lofty heights of the Leaf District. Down in the Stone District, in the heart of winter, there was little magic in the view. Even though she was on her rooftop the city walls were too high for her to see the sun on the horizon. The only indication of its setting was the slow change of brooding purple clouds blackening above her.
It was unfortunate that she had met Martin under those circumstances. Before arriving at Haygarden she had imagined perhaps stealing a visit to her old friends in secret, but it seemed as though all of the choice in such matters was being taken from her. Already Donyo, Shifter, and Martin had taken her by surprise.
What must that mean? She wondered. If everyone could find her so easily, then did Rodrick have just as little trouble detecting her movements? If so, what hope could there be of finding him? The sky offered no suggestions as she watched its colors change like a bruise forming on a massive slab of flesh.
Then there was the manjeko. Surely something should have happened by now, shouldn’t it have? She had paid a heavy price to have the sorceress tamper with her mind, but if Suomo was just another one of the false-mages that Martin had mentioned then that meant she had wasted her time, and perhaps come back to Haygarden for no reason at all.
Fiona cursed the sorceress as she tossed a handful of snow off of the roof. The manjeko was everything…that was what the Laquathi priest had said last year. He had been old, tall, and proud, reminding Fiona of the tower of some ancient stronghold. Finding the priest and getting him to speak had been its own battle. They had argued for days before he gave the information she sought, and more than once she thought he might have her killed.
“There is one spell,” he had finally relented. He stared at her with fiery piercing eyes as the glow of sunlight illuminated the tip of his polished long-spear. “An ancient magic, brought here from the swamps of Morrordraed before even the Vaentysh Kings set foot on Tellosian soil.”
“Tell me!” she urged. “Tell me and I will leave tonight!”
He sighed. “The manjeko. It is a powerful magic, few know of it, and only a fraction of those that do can actually perform the spell required to summon it. You must understand, girl, this spell will be impossibly hard to find, and even if you do succeed it will more than likely kill you.”
“You let that be my concern,” Fiona said. “Just tell me everything you know.”
“As I said, it comes from Morrordraed. Originally it was used by swamp witches to track warlords and adventurers who came onto their lands. None in my order save me even know of it. It is a dark and dangerous bit of sorcery.”
“What does it do?”
“The manjeko is known to give the power of true sight. It will open your inner eye and allow you to scan the world for your brother.”
Fiona scoffed. “That magic is already well-documented. The Tellosian Empire has been scrying since the day the Moonwood’s magic burst into the world.”
“You fail to understand. How could I blame you? The manjeko does not give one a power so trivial as scrying. It goes far beyond that. To scry one uses an inner sight to look at the land through living things. You quite literally inhabit the mind of some woodland creature, perhaps a hawk or eagle if you’re a particularly powerful spell-weaver, and see as they see.
“The manjeko is quite different. You needn’t rely on the sight of common animals. Your spirit will flow from your body and you will be able to pass through the world at lightning speeds.”
“That won’t be good enough!” Fiona said. She bit her lip with disappointment. “It could take years to look in every nook and cranny in Tellos for Rodrick.”
“There is more to it than that. The manjeko has other properties that are…more volatile. They are poorly understood, and can have quite a degree of variance depending on who wields its magic.”
“You’re telling me that the manjeko is my best chance at finding Rodrick?”
“No, girl. I do not deal in absolutes. In my opinion, you will never find your brother. But if you insist on throwing your life into this wild hunt for revenge, then far be it from me to try and stop you. The manjeko will grant you the power of true sight…and perhaps something else. That is all I can say.”
“But how do I acquire it?”
He smiled, but spoke no more.
Fiona shivered as the last light of sun disappeared beyond the skyline. The moon was already out, a thin silver scythe scratching through a wall of clouds. It had been days now, and still there was no sign of anything. That strange silver orb had slipped into her body but after that there had been no sign of its magical benefits.
As if that wasn’t enough to keep Fiona anxious there was also Smiley and Brandon to worry about. The Tellosian agent hadn’t shown his face since Fiona had first met him, but it was surely only a matter of time before he appeared to see if she’d made any progress. As for Brandon, she didn’t even know if he was still imprisoned of not. Her deal with him might not even mean anything anymore.
“Cold night to be sitting outside.”
Fiona abruptly turned. Brandon stood there smiling, wrapped in warm furs and fingering a wooden star he wore on a chain around his neck.
“You’re free,” she said.
“As are you. Looks like we both can be resourceful in a pinch.”
“Why have you come here?”
His broad smile extended to his cheeks. “I believe we had a business arrangement.”
“We do. So have you captured my bro
ther?”
He chuckled even as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “My, my. You are tough to impress. Though lucky for me I don’t need to impress you. The Forgotten deliver results. Which is more than can be said for you, as I know you haven’t seen Donyo Brownwater since we last spoke of him.”
“Perhaps not, but I don’t see why I should care unless you’re hiding Rodrick in that coat.”
“That’s no way to talk to a business associate. You should really learn to be more careful, Fiona. What’s to make our line of work function without a little trust?”
“A little trust? You’re still spying on me and you expect me to trust you?”
He shivered. “Very cold to be outside. Very cold. But, as an honorable man I did want to come give you an update on your brother. A little something to encourage you.”
“I’m listening.”
“Rodrick Sacrosin is indeed in Tellos. There was an attack on an Imperial shipment. We believe Rodrick and some other Vaentysh Boys to be involved.”
“Why would my brother be attacking caravans in the countryside?”
“Well, Fiona, you can’t just expect me to give you the world when you won’t even lift a finger for me.” Brandon shivered again. “It is cold outside.”
“You’ve said,” Fiona grumbled. She was starting to get annoyed. “Why don’t you go inside somewhere before you freeze your balls off then. Unless you’d rather tell me what my brother is up to and where he is now.”
“Well, I’d love to tell you those things Fiona. But like I said, it’s a two way street. We need you to hold up your end of the bargain.”
“I have a plan. I’m going to meet with Donyo soon. I’ll find out what you want to know.”
“Trust.” He chuckled to himself and lit a small wooden pipe. Tobacco smoke wafted off into the night. “There’s nothing quite like it. Nothing quite so disappointing as the absence of it.”
