by C S Vass
But the colors did not disappear. They had gone from the world, but fallen into the eyes of the dog. She looked at the creature, utterly baffled. Its eyes shone with a rainbow of light, explosive and powerful. They still looked at her, searching and knowing. Slowly they too changed, and Fiona was no longer looking at a rainbow, but a deep velvet red. The same velvet red in the eyes of the dog emerged in the sky as well, so that the cloudless expanse above her matched them with its terrifying redness.
I’ve lost my mind. That was the only thought Fiona could center herself around. She started to accept that she had snapped, and her mind had broken reality. As she stumbled around shaking like a leaf in a storm the world stabilized into this new terrible realm of grey with a deep red sky above her.
“This is what you asked for, is it not?” a deep and powerful voice asked her.
Fiona turned, and with astonishment she looked at the dog, but there was no dog. Before her now stood a man with broad powerful shoulders, a small mouth drawn into a tight smirk, and a sharp jawline that jutted out like a cliff. But the most captivating detail of this newcomer was his eyes, red as fine velvet. Red as blood.
“What’s happening?” Fiona asked.
The man didn’t answer, but slowly walked around her in a large circle. He looked her up and down, carefully, as though she were a choice piece of meat he was considering taking home from the market. After he completed his circle the man, the Beast, said, “You don’t understand your power. That is to be expected I suppose.”
His voice was a deep baritone that reminded Fiona of a loud low horn instrument.
“What’s happening?” she repeated. “You have to tell me what’s going on.”
He chuckled. The noise was almost polite, as if he were laughing at an unfunny joke she had just told. She wanted to draw her sword, just to feel safer, but she couldn’t even move her arms they were shaking so badly. The fear was a deep penetrating horror. Fiona felt as though she was no longer in Tellos. As if she had just been transported to a faraway planet separated from any other living thing by realms of impossibility, with only this stranger to contend with.
“Calm yourself,” the Beast said. “My gods, had I known you would be this unprepared I wouldn’t have taken you here at all. You need to control your fear, Fiona. It will kill you in this realm if you don’t.”
She wanted to but it was too much. The houses around her were the same houses. The streets were the same streets. She could still see the summit of the mountain and the edges of the castle at Sun Circle off in the distance. But she was no longer in Haygarden. Somehow she knew that. And it terrified her beyond comprehension.
“Take a deep breath,” the Beast cooed. “There you go. Nice and easy. I would offer you some water, but I don’t think your body could handle it here.”
“Where are we?” Fiona asked as soon as her voice was steady enough that she could speak. This is hell, she thought. Somehow without realizing it I’ve died, and the gods have sent me to the deepest pit of hell. She tried to gain control over herself but she could not stop shivering. It was as if she were suddenly plunged into the bottom of the ocean. The layers above her were too great. There was no hope of getting to the surface.
“That is a more complicated question than you realize,” the Beast said. “I will do what I can to answer it. The short answer is that you’re in Haygarden. In the Stone District. Right were you were before I found you.”
“This is not Haygarden,” Fiona said through chattering teeth. It was Haygarden, but not truly. The world was frozen. There was a leaf caught in an updraft that had halted its motion abruptly when the dog appeared, and now hovered several feet behind the Beast’s head.
“We’re not going to get very far if you keep defying me,” the Beast said. “I told you, it’s complicated. We are in Haygarden. You’re just seeing it through different eyes. My eyes, to be precise.”
Fiona could not have said why but the thought was so horrible she almost passed out. She ran to one of the houses and looked into the glass. The reflection that looked back at her made her fall to her knees and empty her stomach.
“Oh, come on now, it’s not as bad as all that,” the Beast said. “Wasn’t it just last night you were the one telling your fat friend to stop being so dramatic.”
“My eyes,” Fiona stuttered. They were the same as the eyes of the Beast. The same color as the blood-red sky that expanded above them. The grey of the world around them only served to make that horrific red all the more excruciating.
“My eyes, actually, if you’re going to be technical about it,” the Beast said. “The eyes of the manjeko. This is what the world looks like, through them.”
Fiona tried to calm herself long enough to understand what was happening. She looked at the Beast, his terrifying, haunting eyes, his cocky masculine form. “Are you…are you the manjeko?”
He laughed loudly at that. Not the polite chuckling from before, but a bellowing hearty laugh from the bottom of his chest. “That one may be a little bit too complicated for right now,” the Beast said. “Let’s go back to your earlier question about where we are. There is an elder language, gone long before the first humans walked the earth. They called this place Kriech Lyollo. It is a world in-between worlds.”
“What does that mean?” Fiona asked. She was beginning to steady herself but her inner ear was spinning sickeningly and she thought she might vomit again at any moment.
“This is a world that you walk through every day, you just don’t see it. This is a world that doesn’t depend on where it is, so much as when it is. The human brain has a very unique conception of time, different than most any other living thing. This world, Kriech Lyollo, is right in front of you but you cannot comprehend it because your are always moving too quickly to truly be a part of it.”
“Then that’s it?” Fiona asked. “This is what the manjeko does? It allows me to see this new world, this Kreech Lollo?”
“Your pronunciation is as boorish as your manners. But it’s your lack of insight that truly does me a disservice. The manjeko does much, much more than merely bring you to this world. Think of this as the first step on a long journey to understanding the power that I may choose to grant you.”
“May choose?” Fiona asked. “I did everything the sorceress asked. Why would you deny me?”
“That’s true,” the Beast conceded. “You did do everything that my servant asked of you. But you haven’t even heard what I have to ask of you, Fiona. You need to understand that at this point, that’s all that matters. The rest of it was just…preliminary.”
“And if I do what you ask, what then? What can you tell me about the power of the manjeko? Why should I want this?”
“You speak like a philosopher, and I find that terribly boring. I’m not going to tell you why you should care, Fiona. That was a decision you should have made peace with long before you tried to summon me. Now that I’m here there’s no going back. I must say, so far I’m terribly unimpressed. Most likely if this was a normal circumstance then I would simply kill you as one obviously unworthy of wielding the awesome powers that I can offer.”
“Then why don’t you,” Fiona spat. She was growing more and more uneasy but despite that her temper was returning.
“These are most certainly not ordinary circumstances,” the Beast said. The way he stood, so still, so much so that with his grey form he might be mistaken for a statue, deeply disturbed her. “Suffice to say we will not proceed with the ritual as we normally would. Doing so would surely result in your death. We will try again later.”
“How is any of that my fault? I can’t be blamed if humans aren’t equipped to be in this bizarre place.”
“That’s not my problem,” the Beast said. “I’m not the one who contacted the sorceress Suomo. I didn’t go looking for you. So now that we’re here, heed my advice. You must learn to control your emotions. The turbulence swirls within you like a storm off the coast of Morrordraed. The normal world you exist in
can cope with that turbulence. This world, the way its constructed so carefully, so precisely, is not. That is why you feel so sick. That is why a normal person feels more at east the longer they stay here, whereas you will probably die if I keep you here for ten more minutes.”
Fiona’s mind was racing. She knew her time with the Beast was limited and she didn’t want to waste it. “This is the only way?” she asked. “Coming here is the only way that I can gain the power of manjeko?”
The Beast smiled. “Oh yes. There are no shortcuts on the road that you have chosen to walk. Don’t worry Fiona, if you get those troublesome emotions under control you might not die when I bring you here next time.”
Slowly he approached her, and the sense of dread within her grew again. “No, wait! I still need to ask you something. I need more time.”
“We’ll talk again soon, Fiona. It truly was a pleasure to meet you.”
Two thick fingers shot towards her head as quickly as a striking snake. The Beast put them on the center of her forehead, and Fiona’s world turned black.
Chapter Nine
When she finally regained consciousness Fiona felt a lucid calmness. The mind-numbing terror that has dominated her body in the realm of the manjeko was gone, replaced by a sense of stability. She awoke right where she was when the dog had first found her. Color had returned to the world, and the sky above her was a tranquil blue.
Immediately she rushed over to a window to see her reflection. When forest green eyes stared back at her Fiona breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
“Get away, unless you’re wanting me to break that nose!” a heavyset middle-aged woman from inside the house shouted. Fiona smiled and obeyed.
There was a lot to think about, but she was so happy to have returned to the ordinary world that she couldn’t quite bring herself to face any of the more complicated questions. For now, it was good enough to know that she was not going to receive any magical blessings from the manjeko overnight, and that if she wanted to find out anything more about Rodrick she would have to continue on by herself.
Making the decision not to throw away the day she began walking in the direction of the guard barracks where she would find Martin. Upon arriving she moved up a narrow pathway that lead to the entrance and presented herself to two guards with tall pikes and worn leather armor.
“I need to speak with Captain Lightwing,” she told them.
The man with a thick black mustache twitched. “Shove off. Captain’s not here today.”
“What are you talking about? Where is he?”
“Maybe someone told him to shove off and he listened instead of standing around asking questions.”
She glared at him. “Maybe I’ll shove you off this cliff and see if the next guard I talk to knows how to speak to a woman properly.”
The man scowled. “Mouthy little bitch, aren’t you.” Without hesitating she grabbed the pike from his hands and shoved the butt of it hard into his stomach. He crumpled over gasping for breath. Fiona looked to the next soldier.
“Good morning. I’m looking for Captain Lightwing. Can you please tell me where he might be today, sir?” she asked.
The soldier’s eyes grew wide and he made a face somewhere between bewilderment and amusement. Finally he relented and told her not unkindly that Martin had simply not shown up for duty. As she walked away she heard the first soldier mutter a curse and shove his partner.
Not wanting to waste any more time Fiona decided to go find Martin at home. Perhaps he was working on something important that had to do with the raid, or that related to Kevin Lovewood’s capture. Eventually, she made her way down through the winding roads of the Stone District until she got to the squat little place Martin called home.
She knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Surprised, she saw that it was ajar, and so she simply decided to walk in.
“Martin!” she called, surprised. “What are you doing?”
Martin Lightwing was slumped in the corner of the room, bleary-eyed and singing softly to himself. It seemed to take him a few moments to realize that anyone was even there. “Fiona?” he said at last through a hiccup.
“You’re drunk,” she said, exasperated. “What the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be on duty right now.”
“Who cares?” he said with a wave of his hand.
“Who cares?” she asked, stunned. “What is this? Are you trying to be the new Donyo? I hate to be the one to break it to you, but not everyone can pull that off.”
“What’s it to you?” he asked grumpily. “You don’t care if I go to work or not. You don’t care about this city. You don’t care about anyone but—hic—yourself.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to have that conversation with you when you’re rolling on your own floor drunk. Come here, let me help you up and get you some water.”
Slowly and clumsily she was able to guide Martin to his feet while he hiccuped and mumbled to himself. “Gods be dammed,” Fiona grumbled. “What the hell is going on with you?” She eased him gently onto a long couch and then went to fetch him a jug of water.
“Why should you care?” Martin shot back.
“I’d think you’d be happier to see an old friend,” Fiona said.
“Is that what we are?” Martin asked. “Old friends? That’s a funny way to think of someone who only shows up when she needs something from you. Someone who disappears for two years and doesn’t bother to even let anybody know where she’s going or when she’s going to come back, if at all.”
“Stop being a baby,” she complained. “I’m not on trial here. I had things I needed to take care of.” She handed him the water, which he promptly let fall out of his limp hand and spill across the floor.
“We all had things to take care of! We needed you here. We needed to stay together. Everything has gone to shit and you obviously couldn’t care less. So, why are you here now? No, wait, let me guess. You need something. Ha! I see it right on your—hic—face.”
“Why are you acting like this Martin? I’m your friend.”
“Gods, even now? Really? Is making things about yourself the only thing you know how to do?”
The words struck her like a slap in the face.
“You’re not the only one who has suffered these last two years, Fiona. It might do you some good to remember that.”
“I’m here now,” she told him. But he didn’t hear her. He was asleep.
It was a couple more hours before Martin awoke and when he did Fiona was waiting there with water. “Here,” she said, handing him a cup. His lips were dry and cracked and his curly brown hair was sticking out in odd directions.
“Thank you,” he said. He gulped the water eagerly and then rose to get more.
“So how often do they let the Captain of the Guard stay at home wasted before they dismiss you?” she asked.
Martin groaned. “I’ll tell them…something. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Fuck the city guard.”
“Well, that’s hardly an attitude fit for leadership.”
“It’s so damn corrupt,” Martin complained. “This whole city is bought and paid for—and don’t look at me like that. Just because you caught me in an embarrassing situation doesn’t mean that I forgive you. You abandoned us all, Fiona.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?”
She searched her old friend’s face for some kind of reassurance, but he only looked angry and tired.
“Don’t give me that. We both know why you’re here. You want to know about Kevin Lovewood. I’m not stupid, okay, so don’t pretend that you’re here for some altruistic reason.”
“Why can’t it be both?” she asked angrily. “Yes Martin, I left. I made that decision for myself. Because I have someone in my life who hurt me so badly that nothing can ever be the same again for me. I’m still dedicated to finding Rodrick. Does that mean I’m not allowed to speak with anyone else from the city? Should I just go settle down in a life of exile in Laquath? What do you wan
t for me?”
Martin shrugged. “You’ve gotten a lot better at playing the victim. If you were sincere about any of this you wouldn’t just be here with me now. You would have gone to see Sasha. Don’t try to lie, I know you haven’t.”
Fiona’s face flushed red. “That’s different! Sasha, she…I’m not going to talk with you about Sasha!” She folded her arms. Why did they all have to keep bringing up Sasha Rains, after what she did two years ago? She owed the woman nothing, and would not let them make her feel guilty over it.
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Martin said. “But you’re wasting your time here anyway. I don’t have Kevin Lovewood.” He gave her a broad, sad smile. “He escaped.”
“Escaped?” Fiona said, astounded. “He didn’t escape. He was in no condition to walk! How could he have escaped?”
“You seem to know an awful lot about it,” Martin said. “Maybe one of your friends in the Forgotten got him out. Maybe Lawrence Downcastle wields more magic than we know of these days. But if I were to guess, I’d say some Tellosian moneylender paid off one of my men to claim Kevin for himself. Happens all the time, rich bastards. They rub two coppers together and any sentiments of loyalty my men have just melts.”
“Oh, gods, this is bad.”
“This city is fucked,” Martin said. “It’s about time you understood that. It’s about time everyone understood that. It won’t be long until Sandra gets ousted from court herself. She can’t keep going on like this, she doesn’t stand a chance.”
Fiona wanted to scream. She came back to Haygarden hoping to find some friendly faces and, well, some more hope. But everywhere she looked her friends and allies were giving in to despair.
“If I were you I would just leave,” Martin said. “There’s no battle to fight. No enemy you can beat with those swords you wear. How can you fight money? How can you fight anyone when your own soldiers have their loyalty for sale?”
