Dreamers Do Lie

by Megan Cutler

  “She's leading us somewhere,” Dwenba agreed, her voice barely moving beyond her lips. Had they escaped one trap to fall into another?

  Seizing a water skin cradled in the arms of the man beside him, Eselt tossed it at Iwora's head, forcing her to abandon her tirade. She snatched it out of midair moments before it collided with her forehead.

  “In light of your vast knowledge, we offer you this thanks for your services, which are no longer required. Now leave us to finish our business before we grow ungrateful.”

  “Grow ungrateful?” Iwora waved the skin in Eselt's direction. “You've far surpassed that. This is hardly adequate compensation for what I've endured.”

  “It's what you asked for,” Dwenba replied. “Best take it and be on your way.”

  “What is the source of this sudden hostility?” Iwora exclaimed, suddenly speaking much louder. “Just two more blocks and we'll be back to your ship. Let me finish the job and you'll see my services have been worth far more.” She took Dwenba's hand and set the water skin in her palm. A sinister smile slithered across her lips.

  A soft hiss sounded as Eselt drew his sword free of its sheath. Iwora's scream died abruptly as Eselt drove the weapon through her neck. Eyes wide with disbelief, she slid from the bloody blade, collapsing in a heap on the ground. Eselt wiped his sword on the dead woman's shirt and returned it to its sheath.

  The breath rushed from Kaylie's lungs and no amount of desperate inhalation brought it back. Dwenba laid a hand across her eyes and drew her away.

  “Don't look, my lady.”

  Kaylie shuddered and jerked from the old woman's grip, tearing her hand away. “Are you mad?” How could Eselt kill a woman like that? Did he expect to cut a bloody path back to their ship? She glanced around, expecting to see an angry mob preparing for retribution, but only a few faces glanced in their direction. As if it was perfectly normal for souls to drop dead in these streets. What would happen to their guide now that Eselt had destroyed her otherworldly body? Kaylie expected to hear her gurgling, but the woman's eyes were empty and her chest no longer moved.

  “Hush now, my lady,” Dwenba murmured, like a mother trying to soothe her child. She grasped Kaylie's hand and drew her back down the road, away from the body. “She was likely leading us somewhere. An ambush, if she had the kind of power she claimed. She might well have taken us hostage to force our men on the ship to obey her.”

  “We'll have to find those turnings you mentioned.” Eselt stomped to the front of the pack. “We have to get back before night falls.”

  Dwenba nodded, still trying to pull Kaylie along beside her, but Kaylie once again avoided her grasp. At the moment, she wanted none of her friend's comfort. Until now, her fear of danger had been an abstract concept. Only when it threatened to swallow her did it become real. How many of her assumptions were flawed? Were any of her companions the people she thought they were?

  How could Eselt kill without hesitation or remorse? It seemed as unnecessarily barbaric as choking Arimand over a misunderstanding. Eselt might not get along with words, but what purpose did such violence serve?

  What would Arimand have done if he were here? The city dwellers might thrive on brutality, but that didn't mean they should respond in kind.

  Mournful wind howled out of the alleyways and tore through the streets. Despite Dwenba's convictions, retracing their path revealed neither the river's heat nor its firelight. The irregular twinkle of torches above identical windows and doorways made poor landmarks. And now every scrabble of footsteps sounded sinister, as if Iwora's invisible mob might descend on their small group at any moment.

  Hope dwindled and despair mounted as night closed its fist around the city. They'd lost hope of retracing their steps to the market and still had no idea which direction the river lay. Every citizen of the city represented a potential threat. Kaylie worried Eselt would skewer the next one to look at her strangely. Even Dwenba was starting to fray.

  Hadn't they passed this corner three times? As she turned to get a better look, Kaylie collided with one of the faceless shadows in the crowd. Her heart skipped a beat. Eselt might already have his sword free of its sheath.

  “It's dark,” the stranger said. “We should find shelter.”

  One hand cupping her elbow, the mysterious figure stepped into the light. With a sharp intake of breath, Kaylie threw her arms around Arimand's neck.

  “You're alive!”

  She crushed herself against his chest. It took several seconds for him to lay his hands against her back and draw her close. She absorbed comfort from his warmth the way a thirsty woman guzzles water.

  “I'm fine. But that demon is still searching the city. It's not safe to stay in the open.”

  By now, the rest of the group had surrounded them. Dwenba threw her arms around them both. Eselt let his hand fall away from the hilt of his sword.

  “You were supposed to go back to the ship.”

  Arimand laughed. “So were you. I couldn't send Kimuli, he wouldn't have known where to look.”

  “Then you know the way back?” Eselt sounded relieved, or tired. Perhaps both.

  “Yes, but it's too far to risk the journey in the dark. I've already been attacked by thieves twice.”

  “Where else could we go?” Dwenba protested, finally backing up enough that Kaylie could release Arimand and step aside.

  “I have an idea.” Arimand took Kaylie's hand and drew her with him as he took the lead. “Follow me.”

  The streets remained the same crowded, confused jumble they had been minutes before. But they seemed less hostile while she stood at Arimand's side. He navigated each crossroads with confidence, even warning how many blocks they should travel before they turned again.

  Eventually the streets opened to the same courtyard they fled hours before. This time it was empty, save for scattered piles of rubble. The dancing torchlight glinted off drying blood and cracked bricks.

  “What happened?” Dwenba murmured as she stepped over a loose stone.

  “I don't think you want to know,” Arimand replied. He paused to urge the stragglers across the threshold. “I don't think it will come back here. It won't expect us to. The locals seem spooked, so we should be relatively safe. If we leave at first light, we might even be able to slip away before the crowds return.”

  Arimand led the way into the same building from which the water had been distributed earlier. The crates had been smashed to splinters, their cargo picked clean, but Eselt stooped to retrieve a stray skin that had been thrown across the hall. “Pity none of the boards left are large enough to suit our needs,” he muttered before moving on.

  Like the windows, the doorways were empty. They lined the tower hallways at regular intervals, each leading to a series of smaller rooms. Most were empty. Some possessed a smattering of furniture, most of it aged and tattered. Sometimes cloth or canvas blocked an entryway, though neither would stop anyone from entering. Sometimes threats or jeers greeted their glance beyond an empty opening.

  Arimand drove them up several flights of stairs before he chose a room. They scanned the hallway until they found an area with several mattresses, a nest of blankets and no one to complain. It was easy to set guards at each of the doors and windows. Eselt led Kaylie and Dwenba to a windowless room just off the main section of the complex. Arimand dragged a mattress inside.

  Those not assigned to first watch split the remaining mattresses and blankets, settling down wherever they found room. Arimand and Eselt took positions just outside the doorway to the women's room.

  Though Kaylie stretched across her half of the mattress, laying her head on one arm, she resolved not to sleep until they returned to the ship. The city was full of frightful things waiting to make themselves known. Arimand said the demon was still out there, looking for her. Who knew when they might need to run? There'd be plenty of time to sleep on the ship and little else to do. Hopefully resting her aching muscles would be enough to carry her through till morning.

>   While she fought to keep her eyes open, she focused on the voices drifting through the doorway, trying to filter Arimand's out of the rest.

  “…weren't for Sulard, I wouldn't be sitting here.”

  “I suppose he took it to heart when I told him to protect you,” Eselt's voice answered. “At least one of you had your head on straight.”

  “I'm grateful, though I wish it hadn't come to that. Kimuli isn't happy. You might expect an earful when you get back.”

  “Don't worry. I know how to deal with Kimuli. It was losing the path that concerned me.”

  A pause. Kaylie caught her eyelids drifting and forced them open wide.

  “That demon attacking shortly after our arrival was no coincidence.”

  “Funny,” Eselt snorted, “our guide said the same.”

  Arimand didn't ask what became of her. Kaylie wished he would; she wanted to know his opinion. Perhaps she'd ask him later.

  The silence lasted longer this time and the low buzz of other conversations nearly lulled her into oblivion. She started when Arimand spoke again.

  “That demon was powerful, Eselt.” He lowered his voice, forcing Kaylie to strain if she wanted to hear. “It may have looked just like the raiders we saw tormenting the port settlements before we crossed the border, but it was twice as intelligent.”

  “Not to mention twice the size,” Eselt rumbled. “If it's looking for Kaylie, it makes sense it would come from a higher class than the regular troublemakers.”

  “I think it's worse than that, my friend. I'm no demonologist but, from the look of it, I'd say that thing was sent by the King of Hell himself.”

  ~*~*~*~

  A gentle jerk of her shoulder jolted her awake. Kaylie flailed, groggily pulling herself into a sitting position. Where was she?

  “We have to get moving,” Arimand whispered close to her ear.

  The events of the previous day crashed over her like a wave breaking on rocks. The ill-fated journey into the city. The demon attack. Eselt slaying their guide. Holing up in one of the stone towers for the night. Sulard's sacrifice to save Arimand. She'd meant to stay awake, to be on guard for further disaster, but exhaustion had claimed her after all.

  Physically aching, emotionally numb, Kaylie extracted herself from the lumpy mattress. The rest of the group yawned and stretched as they prepared to depart. At least the trip wouldn't be a total waste. They had water to carry them through the next leg of the journey. But how many men lost their lives to secure those resources? And what would happen to Sulard? Would the ferry deposit him on the shores of Ethilirotha during its next trip? Did she dare hope any of her friends could find salvation that way?

  Dwenba offered a weary smile as she uncurled from the mattress beside her. Kaylie tried to mirror the expression, but her face refused to cooperate. The sooner they returned to their ship and put this place behind them, the better. As long as she didn't contemplate what waited on the other side of the wall. It wasn't as if Hell's third ring would be kinder.

  They left behind everything they found in their makeshift haven and trudged back down the stairs. The square was much as they had left it, ruined and abandoned. Kaylie averted her eyes as they skirted the destruction and returned to the city streets. If there were bodies left, she had no desire to see them.

  Thick fog clung to the sides of the stone towers, choking the streets and obscuring their vision. The crowds remained thin near the site of the attack, but grew thicker as they moved away. True to his word, Arimand recalled the route back to the ship, navigating the twisting streets with surprising ease. Then again, he had already puzzled through the route once before.

  A mob still swarmed the docks, vying with each other to reach the edge. Several had already leapt across the short gap. They clung to the side of the ship, scrambling to scale the burning hull while the flames lapped at their skin and clothing. Kimuli leaned over the edge and prodded one with his spear until the invader lost his grip and tumbled into the river.

  Had their guide intended an invasion of this kind? Was that why Eselt stuck his blade through her throat? Kaylie didn't wonder what desperation drove this madness. The city's citizens saw this ship as a potential escape. It was larger than anything they could build with the wood in their ring. They must believe it could overcome the river's rapid current. And if what Arimand said before their departure was true, they would be willing to slay every member of the crew for that chance.

  “They've gotten worse,” Arimand muttered, hand hovering over the hilt of his sword.

  “We'll have to make a path,” Eselt replied. “Give the skins to Kaylie and Dwenba. We'll get them up the ramp first.”

  The rest of the party unslung the water skins from their belts while Eselt urged them all to hurry. Dwenba strung a group of them together and laid them across her shoulders. Kaylie formed a belt with the rest, pulling her cloak closed to conceal them. The skins were heavy, but she wouldn't have to carry them far.

  When the transfer was complete, the rest of the group formed a protective barrier around the women. Arimand drew his sword and the rest followed his example. They chose a place on the edge of the crowd. The crew above would have to angle the ramp, but at least it wouldn't be instantly overrun.

  A familiar sense of dread flared to life in Kaylie's chest as she watched Arimand wade into the throng. Without him, their expedition would be unable to continue. He alone knew the path to the exit.

  But it was more than the abrupt end of their journey and the prospect of being trapped in the city that sparked her fear. She no longer knew how to survive Hell without Arimand by her side. His strength fed hers.

  The crowd shrank away from the clan's swords, gathering like a pack of wolves ready to pounce. When they were in position, Arimand signaled Kimuli to lower the ramp.

  The mob surged forward, heedless of the weapons poised to strike. The press threw a body against one of the blades. The clansman thrust his sword forward and yanked back to retrieve it, but it didn't stop the frenzy. The cries became pleas, promises of riches in exchange for passage aboard the vessel. Most couldn't have more than the clothes on their backs to trade. Why else would they be here?

  The moment the plank came to rest, Kaylie bolted. Heat and acrid smoke wafted from below, stinging her eyes, nose and throat. She thrust her arms outward, counterbalancing the weight of the skins around her waist. She tried not to look at the flames.

  Behind her, steel crashed on steel. Screams split the air. The ramp wobbled. She paused for half a breath to cement her footing, then surged across the remaining space.

  As her feet crossed the threshold of the deck, a hand closed around her ankle. With a yelp, she seized the deck railing just as the backward tug caused her foot to slip. Wardel clutched her wrists, pinching her fingers against the wood. She closed her eyes, drew a deep breath and kicked furiously.

  On the third swing of her leg, the errant grip loosened and Wardel drew her away from the deck's edge.

  As she leaned against the doorway to the lower deck, panting to catch her breath, Dwenba flew up the ramp. Hands lined the edges as desperate souls clambered for salvation. Dwenba stamped each one as she went, crushing fingers beneath her feet.

  Kaylie stayed well back from the railing, craning to catch a glimpse of the dock below. Chaos ruled. Clansmen dashed up the ramp two at a time. As their ranks thinned, the mob closed, tugging the low end of the ramp back and forth in their desperation to mount it.

  Eselt scaled the plank screaming orders. Kimuli and his hunters used their spears to push errant souls from the hull and ramp. But there seemed to be two sets of replacement arms for every soul they knocked aside. Several of the dislodged damned clawed at their fellows as they fell, dragging more unfortunate souls into the river.

  Kaylie joined the group beside the ramp, crushing grasping fingers while others helped the travelers up the ramp.

  Arimand guarded the base of the plank until the rest of the clan finished the crossing. By the time he be
gan his climb, the mob had lost all fear. He inched backwards, sword slashing wildly to keep the mass from overwhelming him. Kaylie's heart lodged in her throat. How did he keep his footing while blind to the path?

  Hands grasped his ankles, but quick slashes of his sword set them free. Kimuli and his men had the far end of the path clear; Arimand only had to escape the creeping crowd.

  The center of the ramp began to droop. Hairline fractures formed beneath Arimand's boots as he crossed the midpoint.

  “It's not going to hold,” Kaylie wailed above the din.

  In one smooth motion, Arimand sheathed his sword and turned to run.

  “Cut the lines,” Eselt roared. “Get us in motion!”

  The crew scrambled into action. Time slowed to a crawl.

  Wardel severed the ropes holding the ship in place with two quick slashes from his blade.

  The vessel lurched forward.

  With a sickening crack, the ramp snapped in half. Half the city mob tumbled into the river. Kaylie's ears rang with screams. She didn't dare look down. Her eyes riveted on Arimand.

  In the last moments before the plank fell, he bolted forward, folded his legs beneath him and leapt. Arms outstretched, he seemed to hang in the air.

  Time hurried forward. Arimand's fingers closed around the edge of the deck. His body slammed against the burning hull. His boots scrabbled to find purchase before he, too, caught fire.

  Kaylie and several others rushed to assist. Together, they grasped his wrists and dragged him aboard. They all fell in a heap the moment Arimand's legs cleared the side of the deck. Kaylie landed closest and threw herself across his chest. His heart pounded beneath her ear. His arms closed around her waist.

  When they caught their breath, Arimand helped her stand. He brushed the soot from his face and approached the rear deck railing. Kaylie peered cautiously over his shoulder.

  The river churned with bodies.

  Kaylie turned away, pressing herself against the lower deck entrance, trying not to hear the shouts and cries of the city dwellers left behind.