The Shadow Warrior

by J. E. Klimov

  “I’ll take the whole pig. Crispy skin and all.”

  The plump butcher froze in place. His eyes traveled past him, and likely onto Tulelo.

  “I take that as a yes. Tulelo, can you carry that? You get first bite.”

  After a satisfying crunch, bits of charred skin rained on Bence. He nodded in approval and continued down the road until they entered the main square. The sun washed over the bubbling fountain where children splashed their feet. Mothers hung by, admiring each other’s headpieces. One was made of copper, the other of wood covered in hawk feathers. Their eyes were heavily lined with charcoal, and their lips were painted as red as blood.

  “Seems the ladies here aspire to surpass Maciji’s beauty, eh?” Tulelo said.

  Bence rolled his eyes. “They look like a bunch of clowns. I like it when women look like women.” He could almost see it now. Ami’s brunette hair brushing past her flawless skin. Her eyes shined without any make up. Her lips were naturally plump and pink. Isabel was the same way.

  A shriek shattered his daydream. One of the children pointed at Tulelo. The rest broke into a chatter, but as soon as the Dunya waved, they scattered like sparrows. Mothers chased after them, holding their headpieces up. Some shops slammed their doors, and those without doors drew their heavy curtains.

  Bence pat Tulelo’s scaly back. “I like it quiet anyway.”

  The Dunya’s eyes shined. After exhaling through his slit nose, he said, “Me too.”

  Taking a seat by the fountain, Bence beckoned Tulelo for the pig. The two picked the meat off the bones and chewed in peace. Occasional sandals scuffled by. Tulelo offered the last piece to him. Bence tore through the chunk with his teeth and savored the smoky flavor. As Tulelo lowered the entire skeleton down its gullet, Bence noticed an old woman sitting behind her stand.

  She’s got guts to hang around.

  His thoughts were drowned out by the crunching of bones. Stretching his arms behind his neck, Bence waited for Tulelo to finish eating.

  “How are you doing, really?” Bence asked.

  Tulelo’s forked tongue swept back and forth in search for any missing pieces. Disappointed that he didn’t find any, he plopped on the ground. Bricks in the road loosened upon impact. “I miss momma.”

  Bence’s chest tightened.

  “I am well fed, and no one has laid a hand on me,” he continued. “But it’s torture every day, living with the people who killed her. I feel so alone.”

  “You have me,” Bence said lamely.

  Tulelo examined his claws. “You defied your reputation, but you’re no Dunya.”

  A sense of emptiness overcame Bence, arresting any words that attempted to escape. Even though the fountain bubbled indifferently, he couldn’t help but detect the same emptiness in Tulelo.

  “We’re both hollow shells,” he finally croaked.

  Resting his head on the ground, Tulelo whined. “At least you’ll be adopted into a new family.”

  The old woman shifted. Bence squinted. She was waving him over. Peeking over at Tulelo, he noticed the reptile closed his eyes, tears streaming down. But the woman waved more aggressively. Bence slipped away with feline silence.

  When he trotted up to the old woman, he furrowed his brows. “What do you want?”

  Her gnarled hands rubbed the surface of her splintered counter. Crystals were strung against panels that leaned against the wall. Incense and miniscule mirrors cluttered the shelving to both sides of the counter. Straw dolls littered every other inch of space.

  “You’re that woman who was trying to sell me these cursed things,” he sneered. He picked one doll up and regarded its empty sockets. He dropped it onto the ground. “I’m still not buying.”

  As he turned away, a whisper tickled his ears. “Fear not little one, I’m here now. The shadows are gone; the sun has risen. I’ll show you the way, and you will realize the purpose you’ve been given.”

  Bence’s breath hitched. When he whirled around, the old woman stepped from behind her counter. “Those words.”

  “So it does ring a bell, Bence?”

  “Who are you?”

  She picked up her straw doll and caressed it. “I’m no one of significance. If you’re not interested in a doll, would you care for a reading? No charge.”

  Blowing his bangs from his eyes, he flopped his arms up and down. “And why would I go to you to have my future read when there’s an establishment over there.” He pointed at the stone building with a copper frame engraved with “Predict Your Fate.”

  Placing the doll on her counter, she regarded him with hooded eyes. “The hedonists love to indulge on a happy fate when they pay up. I didn’t say I was going to read your future. No one can do that.”

  Her sandals scraped as she shuffled back behind her counter, as she tried to pin up loose strands of hair to her bun. Bence glanced between her and Tulelo. His reptilian friend remained still, eyes closed. He sighed. Bence didn’t want to humor her, but the lyrics she uttered anchored him like a spell. His curiosity itched too much.

  Slamming his hands against the counter, he said, “Fine. Be done with it. Only if you tell me where you know those lyrics.”

  “Ho, ho, ho,” she wheezed. “Show me that ring, my boy.”

  “Everyone is so interested in that damn ring,” Bence growled, shoving his hand at her.

  “Of course everyone is so interested. Everyone says you pinned down that warrior’s shadow.” She wrapped her dry, warm fingers around his hand.

  “It’s no one’s business!”

  The old woman shushed him. The pearl on his ring grew hot. She grimaced but kept her hand over his. “Let me see that scar.”

  He blinked in shock. “How do you know that I–”

  “Show it to me,” she croaked. She gripped her hand tighter, causing the pearl to pulse with energy.

  Bence’s mind raced, but couldn’t come to any conclusion other than to follow her direction. He rubbed the make-up off and revealed the Aeonian scar.

  “And your hair?” She asked without skipping a beat.

  “What about my hair?”

  She stretched out her free arm. “Let me touch.”

  “This is getting too bizarre. I’m done with this!”

  “Are you that afraid of an old lump of skin and bones?”

  Shooting her an icy glare, he leaned forward obediently.

  She plucked out a strand.

  “Ouch! What the hell was that for?” His pearl pulsed with more intensity.

  Intertwining it between her fingers, she hummed to herself. After a painfully long minute, she flicked the hair away and released his hand. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? I haven’t turned you into a rat or anything.”

  He crossed his arms. “Well?”

  “Your hair used to be red. Not just any red. But the color of a sun setting on a battlefield.”

  Taking a step back, Bence balled his hands into fists. “Lucky guess,” he said, grinding his teeth. “Who cares if my hair was red?”

  “What you have now is your true color. The sins of your father have washed away. Damian was your father, was he not?”

  His mouth dropped open. Every sentence that fell from those cracked lips hit him like an explosion. “H-how?”

  “Everyone here is familiar with the Myth of the Lady Echidna. And any educated Irellian knew she married a disgraced Tuuli and committed atrocities in a land far away. Of course, like anything deemed a myth, most don’t believe it really happened. However, I do. I spent many years of my youth selling my wares at the Dunyan trading post. The port where you sailed in. I listened to every whisper and every song.”

  Relaxing his hands, Bence crept closer, hungry to hear more.

  “I heard Damian was quite the monster. His brilliant blonde hair was permanently stained with the blood of those he murdered.”

  He dropped his head. His past was catching up again.

  “Chin up. You’re your own man.” Her wooden beads clacked as she shoved a fin
ger between his eyes. “And that pearl. It’s clearly from Deran. It oozes power beyond anyone’s understanding. Whether you plucked it from the sea of it fell from the sky, the pearl works synergistically with you.”

  Bence gave her a half-hearted smile. “That’s very astute of you. But that’s not really a reading. It’s just a very educated guess that happened to be accurate.”

  “Then explain how I know about the mysterious wind calling for you?”

  His memories filtered back to what happened a few hours ago. The wind that swept in with hurricane-like force, carrying a voice, wasn’t a figment of his imagination after all.

  Her cloudy pupils dilated. “A powerful gale sweep into town. Whispers of your name echoed throughout the city. Most people didn’t hear it through the ruckus. But I did.”

  “I’m relieved to know I’m not crazy.” He slapped his knee in victory. “So, what can you tell me about it?”

  The old woman’s lips thinned into a line. Clasping her hands together, she said, “You don’t belong here.”

  His roller coast of emotions plummeted once more. “Excuse me?”

  Pointing to Tulelo, she whispered, “Neither does he.”

  After sucking in a breath, he said, “I bite. Why?” His limbs loosened, energy draining from every nerve in his body. There was no use making sense of this babble, and he figured just let her finish her reading, then he would leave.

  “I could sense the energy from that black pearl since you first pranced into town. And every time I tried tapping into its source, all I could hear were those lyrics. ‘Fear not little one, I’m here now. The shadows are gone; the sun has risen. I’ll show you the way, and you will realize the purpose you’ve been given.’ I’ve heard that song before; it’s not Irellian.” She curled her finger to her lips. “I don’t know its origin, but that pearl must’ve absorbed it during your journey, and I feel that it’s directly tied to you. Bence, you are not a relative to the Deranian royal family, but something, or someone needs you there.”

  Panic careened through him like a flash flood. This one woman could easily ruin the identity he worked so hard to establish if she ran her mouth. “I suggest you keep your falsehoods to yourself.”

  “I’m not generally known as a liar.” She leaned forward and met his eye. “Do the right thing.”

  He whipped out his dagger and stabbed the counter. The blade landed in between her fingers. “You tell Maciji, or even, Ki, and I’ll kill you.” Bence clenched his jaw.

  “I don’t have many years left. Your attempt to bully me is futile. And besides─” She stepped back until she was against the wall. “─you aren’t a bully. Not anymore.” With a flick of her paper-thin shawl, she shuffled around the corner and down a dim alley.

  “You know I can still see you.”

  Her figure continued to shrink into the distance.

  “You know I can catch up in seconds?”

  Silence.

  “What about your damn merchandise I spilled?” He shouted and kicked the stand. Crystals rained over his boots. Dust danced from sticks of incense, ticking his nose. Bence sneezed.

  “Are you okay?” The low rumble of Tulelo’s voice replaced the mental screaming in Bence’s mind.

  Head falling into his hands, he shook his head. His temples throbbed and his throat was scratchy. “Things just get weirder and weirder around here.”

  “And as half Irellian, that makes you half weird.”

  Bence chortled. When Tulelo broke into a howl, he let himself laugh wholeheartedly. Every time he tried to stop, Bence only doubled over.

  Tulelo silenced.

  “What’s the matter?” Bence reduced to a snicker.

  “Ah, ah─” His Dunyan friend heaved. “AH─CHOO!”

  The force of his sneeze sent Bence flying forward, crashing into the old woman’s cart. Wood splintered. Copper dented willingly. After shaking the stars from his eyes, he glanced at Tulelo, who placed both claws over his snout.

  An insurmountable energy welled in Bence’s chest. He jumped onto his feet and sprung his arms apart. Without a thought, he wrapped them around Tulelo. The scales were smooth and cool against his cheeks. The beast’s heart thumped rhythmically like a drum. Comfort. Tulelo was his only source of familiarity in this town.

  When Tulelo’s arms gently wrapped around his back, a singular thought popped into Bence’s mind.

  I want to go home.

  CHAPTER

  26

  Chalices cluttered the dinner table. The acerbic scent of day old wine wafted through the thick air. Leaning back, Bence felt his stomach struggling to digest his overindulgence. He could fall asleep in the chair if he wanted to. The violet ceiling was specked with gold leaves, reminding him of the stars in the night sky. A woven tapestry hung on the front wall. Its intricate patterns displayed some Irellian ceremony. Cutlery clanged against a plate; Maciji finished dinner. He released a belch and rubbed his sternum.

  He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Indigestion.”

  “We did have a rich meal. Roast lamb, a sampling of at least five cheeses, and wine. Lots of wine,” she said with a wink.

  “I can’t believe it’s already been a week.” As the grogginess faded, he realized he was still here. In Irelle. With Maciji. And the wedding was in two days.

  When Maciji’s gaze fixated on Bence’s neck, his cheeks grew hot. He reached for his necklace and wrapped his fingers around Isabel’s ring. He never took it off, but he slipped it under his tunic. Bence had caught her multiple times staring intently at the ring, as if hypnotized by the phoenix engraving. Each time she’d try to discuss Deran, he’d promptly change the subject.

  “More wine?” A pitcher appeared to his right. He shook his head rapidly.

  “Water,” he replied.

  Maciji casually patted her lips with a napkin, smearing her maroon lipstick onto the champagne fabric. “Have you heard from anyone in Deran about attending our wedding?”

  Even though he was bursting at the seams, Bence shoved a chunk of meat into his mouth. He pointed to his cheeks. Rolling the food around in his mouth, he worked on fabricating an answer. Maciji had him send an invitation via hawk to Deran. Her bald servant accompanied him, a little too closely, until he secured the note to its leg and it disappeared into the horizon. He swallowed the bolus, wincing as it scraped his throat.

  “No.” He coughed. “As you know, Deran is still recovering from a war. They’re unable to come all the way over here when they are struggling and resources are low.”

  “That’s too bad. I wanted to meet the queen.”

  He stood abruptly, knocking his stool over. “Excuse me. I’m finished with dinner. I’m going to take a walk.”

  He pivoted in place and stormed out, but her hand hooked around his arm. An uncomfortable layer of humidity clogged every pore in his body. Maciji spun him around and pressed her head against his chest. Tilting his head away from her headpiece, he got a whiff of her floral perfume. She stroked his forearm, spreading goose bumps throughout his body.

  “Your heart is beating like crazy.” Pulling back, she batted her lashes.

  Her words mowed over Bence, sending him back to the night Ami clung to his arms and said the same thing, but Maciji continued.

  “Why haven’t we been intimate yet?”

  He has seen blood, guts, and severed limbs, but her question terrified him. Sputtering like a dying fire, he tried pushing her away.

  “Don’t you find me attractive?” She pouted and brushed her leg against his.

  Heat emanated from her body as it conformed perfectly against him. As she nuzzled her nose into his neck, his hands gravitated to her waist. Sliding them up her backless dress, her silky skin frayed his nerves.

  “I-I do. I just think…” Bence swallowed the dense lump in this throat. It was difficult to form words with her breath tickling his ear. His body ordered him to plop her on the dinner table and rip her clothes off, but the fleeting thoughts of Ami reined in his desire. When h
er lips traced his jaw, she moaned.

  Bence untangled his arms and shoved her away. “No!” He shouted. Taking rattled breaths, he kept his arms extended. “I can’t. I don’t know what the rules are, but, I, um, want to wait until our wedding night.” The words poured from his lips like throwing up a bad meal.

  Shock crossed Maciji’s face. Bence felt just as flabbergasted. His arms just moved on their own. The trance he fell in dissipated, allowing his thoughts to function clearly. Pressing his hand to his throat, he realized what he had done.

  “Maciji, dear─”

  “No one has ever turned me down,” she shrilled.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. Rocking on his feet, he said, “That was my fault. I just never had such a beautiful woman approach me in that manner before.”

  Fixing her hair, Maciji’s face contorted with disgust. “I don’t believe you.”

  An idea struck Bence. He swaggered to her, wearing his best smirk. Just like in the old days.

  “I shouldn’t have pushed you away, but I’m not less of a man by asking you to wait.” Brushing his hand against her cheek, he leaned in and kissed her. Before she could part her lips, he pulled back and looked her straight in the eye. “You’re irresistible, but I want this to be special. Not like the scores of other men I’m sure you’ve scratched off your list.” He finished with a wink.

  She observed him with a feline silence. Each second felt like an eternity. Someone swept the floor down the hall. The rhythmic brushing grated Bence’s ears.

  Maciji brushed her palms together. “You are one particular man, Bence. I’ll suck it up and wait for that delicious body of yours.”

  Inching toward the door, Bence chuckled nervously. “I can hardly wait.” Flapping his tunic, he added, “It’s hot in here. I’m going to cool off outdoors. Goodnight.”

  After she disappeared from sight, he vaulted through the corridor, past the courtyard, down the main foyer, and out the double doors. He wished he believed his own words. Something about rejecting his betrothed challenged his manhood, but when he was about to give in, thoughts of Ami had shut his instincts down.