by Jeff Gunzel
“You have to survive,” she continued, finally releasing his face. “Make it through the tournament, and our enraged king will set another event almost immediately with the intent of doubling the price. It won’t matter, because you and I will be long gone by that time. But you have to survive tomorrow. You have to win!” Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Her eyes locked with his.
“I assure you, your king has underestimated me,” he said, voice steely as always. “Whatever pets he thinks he has assembled to stop me will not live to see another day.” He turned his back to her, lowering his head. “You should go.” She nodded agreement even though he wasn’t looking, then turned to leave. “And thank you for the warning,” he said, knees dropping back down on his bed of straw. He heard the door slam shut.
The queen moved drunkenly down the hall. Walls warping before her eyes, they seemed to breathe with life as she swayed with each step. Death moans echoing from beneath every door sounded like cackling laughter to her ears. The thought of losing him made her chest ache, but she needed to hold it together. Soon, this would all be over with. Soon, she and Jarlen would share a life together just as they had planned for so long now. You cannot die on me.
* * *
Staring up at the ceiling, Viola lay awake on her bed. Tomorrow she would see her brother for the first time, and her stomach was in knots. Sleep would not come easily this night. But aside from the anxiety she was dealing with, the room was rather nice. It was by far the nicest place she had ever stayed in. Liam had pressed Owen to pay for nice rooms in a nice place as a way to apologize for the trouble he had caused. Sinking into her soft mattress, Viola wasn’t about to complain.
After another half hour had passed, she gave up and rolled from the mattress. She would try again later, but was too wound up to just lie here like this. Hands on her hips, she glanced around at the finely decorated room. There were two paintings on the wall, one of a winding path leading through a forest, the other of a mountain, its wide peak tipped with white snow.
Over a freshly lacquered mantle was a set of wooden figurines—tiny soldiers, mostly, but there were a few animals as well. Handcrafted, each was painted with surprising detail. Remembering something she had seen years ago when a pack of traveling entertainers came and performed in the streets of Redwater, she stepped over to the mantle and picked up three figurines. With a lion in one hand and two soldiers in the other, she raised her head and pulled back her shoulders while taking a deep breath.
Tossing them up in the air, her empty hands worked circles around the falling toys. She managed to touch one, slightly misdirecting it while the others simply landed at her feet. She sighed, looking down at the wooden figures. Why didn’t it work? She had seen it done before, men and women with funny clothes keeping balls in the air for long periods of time by simply touching them rapidly. What was that skill called again? Jurggering? Jugglon? Unable to remember, she picked them up and placed them back on the mantle.
Shrugging off the failed attempt, she went over to the basin in a much smaller attached room. She dipped her hands into the basin, splashing water up over her face. A fragrance in the water left behind a light flowery scent. She sniffed her hands, enjoying the way they smelled for a time. After spending so much time on the road, this pampered treatment was truly a luxury.
After a final splash, she looked up and caught her reflection in the looking glass over the water. Not wearing her wig or eyepieces, her true reflection stared back at her. Her white hair was a tattered mess. She ran her fingers through it several times. Why was looking different considered such a bad thing? Is this what happened to her brother? Was looking different his only crime? Questions like these would always haunt her.
Feeling restless, a part of her wanted to go across the hall and knock on Thatra’s door. Having a girlfriend, someone she could talk to about personal things, was fun. Of course, she could go knock on Xavier’s door too. Again, she felt her face flare with heat at the very thought. No no no...it’s late. Everyone’s asleep, just like I should be. Pushing the thoughts from her mind, she went back to her large, comfortable bed. Feeling more relaxed now, it wasn’t that long before she drifted off to sleep.
Come morning, she woke to a knock at the door. Groggy, she rolled from the bed. Opening the door a crack to peek out, she happily yanked it open when she saw Xavier standing on the other side. Her happy grin at odds with his frown, he stepped through and quickly closed the door behind him. “Viola, you can’t just open the door like that,” he said, whispering for some reason.
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like this,” he said, pointing at her white hair.
“Oh!” Having forgotten about her appearance, she turned and walked back towards the basin to retrieve her wig and eyepieces. Xavier waited, sitting on her bed while listening to her splash around in the water. A moment later, she reappeared wearing her disguise.
“There,” she said, holding her arms out wide. “One boring human at your service.”
Smiling at her attempted wit, he walked over and straightened the wig that had obviously just been thrown on with minimal effort. “There,” he said, stepping back while looking at her. “Wait, no, no.” He stepped forward again, barely touching it before stepping back. “There. Wait...wait, no. Let me just—”
Laughing, she pushed him away. “All right, then,” he said once their laughter had died down. “Let’s go downstairs and have ourselves a hot meal. It’s Owen’s treat,” he added.
Viola was quick to follow him out into the hall and down the stairs, pleased with Xavier’s suggestion. She must have really overslept, because the others were already waiting at a table. All appeared to be well rested and ready to start the day. Owen, however, looked angrier than usual—quite a feat, really. Frowning at his coin purse, he gave it a shake before putting it away. Plates of eggs and smoked meats were already being served when Viola and Xavier joined the others.
As expected, Owen remained quiet throughout the morning meal. But for some reason, Liam seemed rather distracted as well. Despite indulging in a meal that surpassed in quality anything they had eaten in quite some time, he showed little gratitude while poking at his eggs. The others gorged as if they hadn’t eaten in days. If quality of food was any measure, they really hadn’t eaten properly in a very long time.
“And what will you two be doing this morning?” Thatra asked, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Xavier and Viola. They stopped chewing and looked up, then glanced at each other from the corners of their eyes. “I mean, I assumed the two of you would spend the day together. We’re in a big city now, and we’re no longer tied to the road. I thought you two might do some exploring? A city this size must have lots of—”
“Trouble,” Liam cut in without looking up from his plate. “There are a thousand ways to find trouble in a city this size, as we’ve already witnessed.” Owen gave an indignant snort, then continued shoveling food down his gullet. “Our primary goal was to hide in plain sight. That is why we’re here, after all, to try and blend in. So far, we’ve done anything but. Remember, we’re in the heart of a large community now. Until we have some semblance of a plan moving forward, I think it’s best if we stay together.”
Thatra shrugged. “I just thought that perhaps—”
“No, you didn’t think,” Liam cut her off sharply. “Apparently, that’s my job. Trying to keep you all out of trouble is like looking after children.” Wiping his mouth, he threw his cloth down on the mostly finished plate and slid back his chair. Without a word, he stomped up the steps, presumably heading back to his room.
“Excuse me a moment,” Thatra said softly, also sliding her chair back. Everyone watched her follow the mystic.
“I wonder if it be too early to order an ale,” Owen grunted, breaking the awkward silence.
Once Thatra reached the top of the steps, she saw Liam leaning against the door to his room, eyes closed, forehead pressed against his arm. “The others are downstairs, so it’
s just you and me,” she said, approaching the mystic. “Instead of groaning like an old man, why don’t you try telling me what’s really bothering you this time.”
He sighed, refusing to turn around. “I made the girl a promise that I wish I hadn’t,” he said.
“What promise? About her brother, you mean?”
He nodded, forehead rolling up and down against his arm. He pushed off his arm and turned, back thumping against the door as he gazed up at the ceiling. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I decided to go out and do a little exploring of my own. It seems the taverns here in the city stay open until the wee hours of the morning. After seeing that poster of Jarlen, I was determined to gather as much information about him as I could. You would be surprised how quickly tongues loosen in this city for an unassuming old man who just bought a round of drinks.
“Most of what that barkeep told us turned out to be true. Jarlen has been a featured attraction here for the better part of a decade. However, listening to the locals speak of him, they seem to believe he is nothing short of some kind of animal, a mindless beast who can’t even speak, and operates on nothing more than savage instinct. Not exactly the person Assirra described when she told her story to us.”
“There are any number of reasons that rumors like that get started, Liam,” Thatra reasoned.
“Another thing struck me as rather peculiar,” Liam continued. “According to Assirra, Jarlen was brought here as a young boy, yet no one seems to remember it that way. When the locals speak of seeing him for the first time, they describe him as a grown man. No one ever saw him as a youth.”
“It sounds to me like you’re fretting over small details,” Thatra said, still wondering how any of this had gotten the man so flustered.
“Agreed,” Liam nodded, waving away his own unimportant ramblings. “But that is not all I’ve discovered. It seems as though tonight’s match is billed as a farewell of sorts. Tonight’s show is one that Jarlen should not be able to win. No one knows the details as to what horrors have been assembled to stop him in the pit, but it’s widely accepted that the odds are not in his favor. This is why so many have come to the city. They are not here just to watch this wonder of nature perform, they are here to watch him die!”
Now understanding the issue, Thatra spoke carefully. “Does Viola know—”
“Of course not!” Liam interrupted, throwing his hands in the air. He felt helpless. “How do I explain to her that we already know he can’t win tonight? She’s going to watch her brother die, and I’m the one who promised to take her.” He ran his hands over his face. “What do I do?”
“You do nothing,” Thatra replied with a shrug. “Finding her brother was never our first priority. Did you not say that?” He nodded. “By Assirra’s own acknowledgement, he is nothing but a bloodthirsty killer. Did she not warn us of that already? I thought we were in agreement that we can no longer protect her from the world. These cold realities are just a part of life. It’s out of our hands.”
“Even though she never knew him, no one should have to watch their brother die before their very eyes,” he reasoned.
“But die he will, whether she’s watching or not,” she pointed out. “So the way I see it, all you can do is keep your promise. It’s the only thing she can hold you accountable for. If he is beaten, as you say is expected, then she will see the brother she never knew fall. She will be sad. She will get over it, and life will go on. But our more serious problems will still remain. When compared to keeping her out of the grasp of the ghatins, I would say this is little more than an inconvenience. Again, making decisions based on trying to protect her feelings is not wise.” She turned away to go back downstairs.
Watching her go, he heard her footsteps as she descended the steps. Her view was cold in nature, but accurate nonetheless. Never before had he let his feelings control his actions to this extent. Resigned to agree, he followed after her. The death of Viola’s brother might even be beneficial. It would be one less distraction drawing Viola’s attention away from the true threat. He hated himself for thinking it. But most of all, he hated that it was undeniably true.
When he reached the bottom step, the others were already finished and standing around waiting. Apparently, they had heeded his warning about splitting up and wandering inside the city. Since they had at least done that much, Liam felt obligated to lighten the mood, seeing as how he had been the source of the tension anyway.
“I’m sorry, everyone,” he apologized. “I didn’t sleep well last night and my crankiness has me seeing shadows around every corner. What say we do a little exploring of the city together and familiarize ourselves with our temporary home? Once we know a little more about Shadowfen, I’ll feel better about splitting up in the days to come. But for now, let’s just stick together.”
Glad to see he was in a much better mood, his companions all agreed.
Chapter 10
No different than most days, the crowded streets were alive with hustle and bustle. The chinking of blacksmiths’ hammers rang out, followed shortly by the hissing of water quenching hot steel. Wooden signs shaped like boots hung outside the cobblers’ shops. When Viola and her friends entered the marketplace, they saw wheeled wooden stands with barrels filled with apples, peppers, and pears. The spicers’ stands were just a short ways up the main street. Here, the sweet scents of cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg hung in the air. Local folks haggled over prices, the transactions ending in flying fists before an agreement could be reached. Most paid no attention to the expected scuffles, knowing they would be broken up in no time.
An hour became four, then five. Before they knew it, the morning was gone and it was well into the afternoon. Liam couldn’t deny that he had enjoyed the long walk through the city. Seeing the constant grin on Viola’s face warmed his heart. The distraction was so wonderful that he had nearly forgotten about—
A distant bell began to toll, its steady peal echoing throughout the entire city. There seemed to be an immediate tradeoff between folks who wandered the street and those holed up in fancy inns. Commoners with their work boots and leather vests scurried off the streets to make their way indoor. High-class inns and taverns began to empty as lords and ladies marched into the streets. Women wearing fine silk dresses with exotics furs slung over their shoulders stepped into white carriages with gold-trim borders. After drawing red silk curtains for added privacy, they snapped their fingers at their drivers, prompting them to be off.
“It’s starting! It’s time!” Viola squealed, nervously rubbing her hands on her shirt. “We have to go!”
“Yes, I suppose you’re correct,” Liam said reluctantly, glancing around with his hands planted on his hips. The parade of privileged men and women seemed to all be moving in one direction, so following the crowd wasn’t going to be hard. No one appeared to be walking anywhere, so they made their way back to get their horses.
After forming up with the makeshift parade of travelers, the line of fine horses and luxurious carriages led straight out of the city gates, and up a winding path leading deeper into the desert. They trotted past slow-rolling coaches, their passengers fanning themselves with small devices that looked to be made of some sort of parchment with wooden handles. Both men and women alike powdered their faces with white dust from small, handheld compacts. This group was truly the elite of the elite, and had most likely never worked a day in their lives.
From behind them came a shrill whistle. Slowing down, coaches began to part, moving their carriages off to either side of the path. With the way cleared, a much larger cart came rolling up the center. Surrounded from front to back by mounted armed guards, it appeared to be carrying something of importance. When it rolled up by Viola and her friends, they could see that the main compartment was essentially little more than a barred cage on wheels. Some sort of wild beast? Liam thought. His assumption was at least partially correct.
Having long white hair with tiny bells woven into the ends, bloodred eyes, black lips, and pale
skin, the creature clung to the bars while gazing out at the horses and carriages. Anything from fruit to small pots and other cookware came firing out from the open windows of the coaches, bouncing off the bars of Jarlen’s cage as he rolled past.
Viola’s jaw dropped in astonishment. Her eyes locked with his as the cart rolled up next to them. Her heart fluttered, and her palms began to sweat. There had been a lot of firsts for her in recent weeks, but this was the first time she had seen one of her own race.
Jarlen...
Her mind could have been playing tricks on her. It was possible she had imagined it. But when he rolled by, he seemed to focus on her despite all the others around them. His head turned as he passed, his eyes staying locked on her. He looked curious, and somehow concerned. Without thinking, she raised her hand and waved—such a simple act, but a kind one that stood out among the hordes throwing objects at the cage. Still gazing at her, he lifted a hand of acknowledgment in her direction. The cart rolled on ahead, a funnel of dust twirling in its wake.
Staring off into the distance, Viola couldn’t tear her eyes away from the quickly disappearing cart. Somehow, it had just become real. All this time she knew what they were doing, why they were here, yet somehow the reality was different in her own mind. Up until now, the day had seemed like some sort of dream, the kind you already knew would never play out because you would awaken soon. But seeing his face with her own eyes made it real. This was no dream.
