Behind him, Marcus lowered his head and crashed through that merchant’s goods, sending melons and citrus flying into the air. Distracted by the airborne produce, he struggled to find the man in green. When he saw him charging up those stone steps to one of the district’s stone overpasses, he prepared for another devastating hit.
Bricks flew skyward just as easily as cantaloupes and oranges. The partition shuddered as he tore through it, but the bridge above was intact. The Emerald Adder was nowhere in sight, though, he realized. Marcus hesitated, catching his bearings as he struggled to find the man who cost him his vengeance. He saw the man in green, then, escaping down a side alley just beside that walled overpass.
The Titan snarled and gave chase once more.
That change in strategy had earned him a little extra time, but there was no telling just how much he needed in order to avoid Marcus altogether. The prince’s lungs burned, and he knew his muscles would ache the following morning. Nothing was as pressing as escaping the angry brute, though.
Though his legs kept churning him forward, he considered that thought. Changing up his escape plan had earned him time. Perhaps altering his goal could allow him a different kind of victory.
He came into a small common area behind a residential sector of the city. Several houses shared some amenities—a fountain against a wall, a little area for children to play in, and more tables that merchants would bring some of their goods to. Some of those houses were built for multiple families on different floors.
Once more, that ring of gold glowed brighter in Kelvin’s eyes.
Marcus burst through the alleyway, catching himself and looking to his side. A blur of green was already in motion, charging up another set of stone steps. The Adder was attempting more acrobatic maneuvers, for he didn’t leap over the stone partition then, instead turning and walking atop those merchant tables that had been left to stand in the area.
Kelvin kept his head pointed forward, but he looked out of the corner of his eye to see the brutal fellow who had found him once again. If Marcus had kicked his foot against the ground before he charged, he would have looked like a raging bull. The disguised prince hesitated, as if in fear, but he knew the truth of his plan.
As Marcus drew close, Kelvin gasped and leapt off the wooden beam above the well. The Titan crashed through the cart that stood as a disguise in front of it. By then, there was no stopping his momentum. He didn’t even realize his mistake until he smashed through the ring of stone that protected the side of the well and prevented children from falling into its depths. Marcus was not so lucky. Stones flew in every direction as the Titan collapsed into the pit, only able to hang onto stray blocks as his feet dangled beneath him.
A plume of dirt and smoke took to the air. When it settled, he understood the man he pursued did not take that opportunity to find sanctuary elsewhere. No, when the dust settled, he was waiting there, his bow drawn and an arrow nocked to it.
Marcus knew he was beaten. “Do it,” he ordered. “Put me out of my misery.”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” the Emerald Adder said. “It’s not my way, though. I’m not meant to serve as your executioner.” The huge man before him shifted at that admission, and the vigilante pulled back farther on the bow, letting the tension on that string resonate. “That said, I don’t think a regular jail cell would hold you. Perhaps I do have to serve as your judge.”
The Titan scowled. “If you knew why I went after Ralek, you’d be saving your judgments for him. I’m no criminal; he is.”
“From what I saw of him, he was nothing but a man scared half to death.”
“Believe me,” Marcus said, “he’s much worse.”
*****
His hand ran along the wall of that building, his fingers tracing the cracks in the foundation. He sighed and shook his head, knowing his earnings could do little to find them a new place to call home.
When Marcus walked inside the house, he noticed his wife bending low in the kitchen area. A fire burned bright and crackled just beyond the table. He watched her stand up, bringing her hand to her back.
“You’re lifting for two now,” he said. “Remember to take it easy, Sascha.” His wife sent him a scornful gaze, and he knew he had stepped too far. Though she was a meager thing compared to him—even with the sizable bump protruding from her stomach—he knew better than to risk her wrath. “I’m sorry I took so long getting home this evening. They had us deep in the mines today, and I was starting a new tunnel, and it took longer to get to…” He let his words trail off, knowing she couldn’t be placated when she was in that mood.
Instead, the big man turned to the other lady in his life. His smiling, blond daughter sat at the head of the table, intrigued by the look her mother gave him.
“Hello, little Aela,” he said. Marcus plucked her from her seat and lifted her into a tight embrace. “Were you good for your mother today?”
She offered a nod and wrapped her arms around his broad neck.
“I don’t suppose they gave you last week’s pay yet, did they?” Sascha asked. Though she still wore that angry scowl, her voice was melodic and soothing. She could tell by his widening eyes he had not been paid yet. “You have a good heart, my husband. But you let people get away with far too much. They used you at the mines to dig that tunnel because you have the strength and the stamina of two or three men. They should treat you well.”
“They do treat me well,” he insisted.
“They mean well,” she said. “I know times are tough for everyone. But if they can’t pay you for the work, they shouldn’t ask you to do it.”
Marcus shrugged. “It’s better if I do it. When you have three people digging a tunnel, they do it at an uneven pace. It has a better chance of collapsing when they do it that way.”
“It’s noble of you to care about their safety. You should tell them about that and see if they can’t pay you better—and more often. I just don’t want to see anyone take advantage of you, Marcus,” she said. “Unless it’s me,” she was quick to add. “Throw another log on that fire. Supper is almost ready.”
He smiled and abided by her, placing another piece of firewood in the hearth. “I smelled the stew from a few doors down. That’s quite the meal. What made you decide to make it?”
Sascha let a grin come to her face, finally. “I’m still remembering Nona’s last visit. She always made such delicious meals for us when we would visit her.”
“Well, they were also quite the visits. I never understood how your parents could leave her in Draconis to come here. But I’m all the luckier for it.” He crossed the room and embraced her from behind, bending low to deliver a loving kiss upon her cheek.
She gave him a trio of gentle taps on the leg, ushering him away while she was stirring the hot meal. “Nona is a strong woman. Stronger than you,” she teased. “I’ll bet she could do the work of five men in those mines of yours. I don’t think my parents left her behind; I think they were forced out. Do you know she’s still traveling across Tellest? She’s gone as far north as Kassoya in Ravane, and she’s even been on a small expedition at the very north of the Frozen Abyss.”
“She’s quite a lady,” Marcus said as he crossed to the next room. He pulled his dirty shirt off his sticky body and tossed it into the straw basket he kept in the corner. A hefty stomping could be heard in the room above them. “What was that?”
“Oh,” Sascha snapped, “I see you’ve heard the neighbors. You’d think a circus troupe had moved in upstairs. But it’s just another man and his wife. They’re moving in various pleasantries: a bed, some chairs, a table. I had the opportunity to talk to them earlier. They seem like nice people, and after they settle in, maybe the noise won’t be so bad.”
“There shouldn’t be any noise,” Marcus said. “There isn’t supposed to be anyone up there until the foreman comes here and looks at that crack outside.” As he spoke, though, he noticed another crack had formed between the two windows in that room. He fur
rowed his brow as he drew closer to inspect it.
“That foreman will never be out here. You let people get away with too much,” she echoed.
He didn’t notice her turn about and put her hands on her hips in mock annoyance. As the stomps resonated upstairs, he watched the crack extend upward. Marcus could only watch in shock as the stone between those windows crumbled.
“Sascha, get Aela and get out of here,” he bade.
“What?” she asked. “Why?”
Before he could respond, a terrible rumble echoed out along their home. All three of the residents looked up, and Aela screamed as dust fell from the ceiling. Marcus looked at his wife and daughter, so close yet so far away, and time seemed to stop him in his tracks.
Sascha watched the building collapse atop her husband and knew it would not be long before they were crushed as well.
Against the odds, Marcus stood strong against that falling stone for a time. When it landed on his pregnant wife and his precious daughter, though, all hope was lost, and he crumpled beneath the terrible weight.
*****
He came to, and his body was crushed by rubble. That last image of his wife and his daughter forced him to persevere. Against all odds, he pushed the debris—hundreds of pounds of stone and wood—off his back. Everything was gray. He didn’t know if it was his vision or a layer of dust and grime painted over everything, but the color was gone. Two other people groaned, but he didn’t recognize those voices or those sounds. More than likely those new neighbors Sascha had told me about, he thought.
When he was free of the heft of that material, he felt as though he was in another life. The world he knew was gone, replaced with shallow breaths, throbbing pain, and vision that seemed to fade in and out.
A deeper part of him was moving his legs and hands. He couldn’t find the strength to concentrate. Even when he heard his wife’s frail voice, he was looking skyward at that overcast moon as he scaled the debris and began moving it aside.
Sascha was there on the ground, the same color as the stone that entombed her. That last piece atop her was heavy, but Marcus gave out a hearty roar and attempted to lift it anyway. It was no use, and for a moment, he found focus again. She looked at him with pleading eyes, repeating the same word, over and over and over.
“Aela,” he heard, the endless echo stabbing into his heart and dealing more damage to him than the fallen building ever could.
He watched his wife succumb to her terrible injuries. Her eyes blinked rapidly and then sealed shut one last time.
Marcus cried out and grasped his wife’s hair, unable to hold her head any higher with the rubble atop her. He sat there while other citizens rushed in to help, but any calls to him were lost in his ears, concerned voices becoming another language in his mind.
Again, he moved without thought to the dilapidated area of the house where his daughter was. He only needed to move a few pieces of the fallen building before he saw part of her limp body and the damage that had been wrought.
The large fellow couldn’t bear to see his child like that. He walked through the rubble, barely cognizant of what was going on around him, ignoring the calls of others and pushing past them when they put their hands up to stop him.
There was nothing they could do for him, though. He was already lost.
*****
The big man kept his head bowed until he reached the construction site. As he drew near, his slow gait hastened into a purposeful sprint.
Ralek spoke to a trio of his craftsmen and gave orders as they moved throughout the area, until he heard a hateful roar and turned to see a hulking man pushing past several of his other workers.
Marcus rammed forward with all his might but didn’t have the strength to pass them. “You killed them,” he cried. “Your shoddy work killed my wife and daughter, and still you’re out here, a month after it happened. And I’ve seen your work. Oh, I’ve seen it. You’re still cutting corners, still putting in as little effort as possible. You’ll end up killing someone else!”
The laborers tried to wrestle him back to no avail. “You don’t care one bit, though, do you?” Marcus asked. “You put money where it needed to be, and you still stand above it all, don’t you?
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, spitting past the men who held him. The gob of saliva landed on the ground before Ralek’s boots. “You shouldn’t be building any more of your despicable homes. You should be rotting in a cell!”
“Get him out of here!” Ralek shouted. “And if he returns, make sure he has to crawl back to whatever hole he came out of.”
More of the foreman’s laborers rushed to shove the man back, and Marcus didn’t have the strength to stand against their combined weight. He cried out, but Ralek was done listening.
*****
Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, the big man turned to see how well the torch persisted. It would not be long before that flame burned out and he would need another one.
“How long have you been out here?” he heard.
Marcus turned to see a familiar face. That dark-skinned fellow was barely visible beneath the night sky, but the torchlight helped to illuminate his features.
“Just getting a head start, Branden,” he said.
“No,” the other fellow said, clapping his friend on his back. “The head start was about a week ago, when you told the folks living in this home it was going to collapse. How you knew about it before it fell is anyone’s guess.”
“You think I’m the cause of it?” Marcus wondered.
Branden shook his head. “You have the strength for it, my friend, but not the will. There is too much good in your heart. Perhaps that’s why you’re out here before the sun rises every day.”
“We can say that’s the reason.”
The other man narrowed his eyes. “Or we could say it’s because you want to spite someone who wronged you so many years ago.”
Marcus stood taller after hearing that accusation. “I hope you’re not complaining. After all, I’m reclaiming all this material for you and your lads.”
“That you are,” Branden said with a smile. “You’re here late into the night and early in the morning.”
“My wife used to say I let people get away with far too much. Hopefully, you don’t see it that way.”
“This way we both win, eh? I get more construction material, and Ralek and his boys don’t get a hold of this rubble.”
Marcus swallowed away the tension building in his throat. “He’ll take it and use it again. And every time he does, the houses he makes get weaker and weaker. I can’t stop him from working—someone somewhere in this city is making sure he’s above the law—but I can make him work harder at ruining other lives.”
“I’m not complaining,” Branden said. “Just make sure you watch your back and keep my name out of all this. As I said, what we have right now is a situation where we both win.”
Marcus breathed out a sigh of relief as the leader of the rival construction crew walked away. Branden Reed was a good man who worked a fair bit harder than other men in his industry. Though he led his own crew, he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. Still, Marcus wasn’t sure how Branden would react if it came to light the material he was buying was ill-acquired.
He shrugged and set back to work, plucking hunks of stone off the ground where the latest building had fallen. There was no sense worrying about it. Either news would spread of his scheme, or he would keep going on with it. There was nothing else he could do, after all. Ralek was too powerful, surrounded by too many people.
Another grunt escaped his lips as he hoisted a bigger stone into the cart beside him. He huffed and wiped a trail of perspiration away before it sank into his eye.
As he looked up, he noticed the beautiful trail of colors in the sky. He heard his wife’s voice then, reminding him of the time her nona had gone to Ravane and saw an aurora like that. Sascha always wanted to see one, he recalled.
It was a curious sight, but
he was caught trying to remember his wife’s face. Her voice seemed so familiar, but her face so distant. Perhaps it was the echo of her telling him he let people get away with too much, he laughed.
As that aurora passed overhead, he bowed his head and returned to work. He couldn’t bear to think about his wife or his daughter anymore. Even after all the time that had passed, he blamed himself almost as much as the foreman who put them in a house too weak to hold.
There was no escaping it, though. Once he thought of those happier times, they shared a spot in his mind with the anger he worked to suppress. He channeled that rage into his work, picking up one piece of stone after another.
In moments, there were no more pieces to pick up, and the cart was full. He cocked his head to the side, wondering how he could manage such a feat. When he plucked a piece of that stone from the cart, he marveled at how light it felt. Moments before, those hunks of debris were too much for him to bear, but suddenly…
Marcus stepped to the side of the cart and prepared his body in a wide stance. He placed his hands under the vehicle and braced himself for the feat of strength. When the side of the cart lifted with ease, he was astonished. The stone atop the wagon shifted, and he let it down, drawing a snort from the horse at the head of the vehicle.
Alone in those late hours of the morning, the big man furrowed his brow and looked down at his hands.
He heard that distant voice one more time.
“You let people get away with too much.”
The look of confusion turned into one of determination and anger.
“Not anymore,” Marcus said.
*****
“So, you always had the strength inside you,” Kelvin surmised. “But the aurora brought it out of you in greater force.”
“One last gift from Sascha,” the man trapped in the well bade. “Or at least, that’s how I choose to see it.”
Silver Serpent Page 7
