by Jensen, Megg
“There’s a nice little pub around the corner,” Alia said. “It’s clean but not a pub the nobles frequent. No one will even notice you there.”
The sign above the pub’s door featured a picture of a dancing swan.
“The Dancing Swan?” I asked Alia.
She laughed. “You got it!”
We entered into the pub and filled it with light from the afternoon sun. Alia led me to a table and we sat down. I took a look around. It was only the second pub I’d ever been to, the first with Mark. The people here were different. The last pub was in a peasant town, but here there were few women, just a couple other slaves like us, and the serving girls. Other than that, I felt like we were surrounded by men downing mead.
“Well, look who’s here,” a voice said behind me. “I think you’re right, Mark. It is our favorite slave.”
I whipped around to find myself face to face with Ace. He’d scooted his chair over from the table behind us, trapping me in my chair. I couldn’t get up if I wanted to. I saw Mark behind him, on the other side of their table, a scowl on his face.
Ace’s hair, as long as many women’s but straight as a pile of tinder sticks, hung over his face like a veil. His murderous eyes taunted me, but I refused to drop my gaze.
“You look a little different, sweetheart, but I’d recognize those eyes anywhere,” Ace said, winking at me.
I turned around, hoping if I ignored him he’d go away. What were they doing in town anyway? They were supposed to be camped at the base of the mountains. Mark had said he needed to get back to his men yesterday, but here he was again.
“Leave her alone, Ace,” Mark warned.
“Who are these guys?” Alia whispered.
“No one,” I said through clenched teeth.
“No one?” Ace asked. Obviously he hadn’t taken the hint. “I saved your skinny little butt just two weeks ago and now I’m no one? Not very grateful, are we?”
“I didn’t ask for, or want, your kind of help,” I said, not bothering to turn around.
“Leave her alone.” I heard a scuffle behind me and Alia gasped, her eyes wide. A chair screeched across the floor in front of our table and Ace followed not far behind. I felt Mark’s hand on my shoulder. Ace lay on the floor, tangled with the chair, holding his cheek with his right hand.
“That was uncalled for, Mark,” he said, a grin spreading across his face.
“I told you to leave her alone.”
Ace pulled himself up as the bartender ran over.
“Is there a problem here?” he demanded, eyeing Ace and Mark.
“No,” I said, staring at Ace. “Not anymore. It’s been taken care of.”
He looked at us all suspiciously. “Maybe you’re all done here?” he asked.
I sighed and nodded my head. “We’ll leave. I’m really sorry we disrupted things.”
Ace picked up the chair, placing it back at the table behind me. Mark offered me his arm, but I refused and stood up, grabbing Alia’s arm.
“Let’s go.”
“We’re coming with you,” Mark said.
“No, you’re not,” I replied, tugging on Alia for her to follow me. Her mouth fell open and she kept looking back and forth between Mark and me. I’m sure she was wondering how I’d met a guy while I’d been cooped up in the palace. I didn’t want to see Mark. He’d left me, again, and now I had to deal with Ace too. Kiss or no kiss, I didn’t want anything to do with Ace.
“That’s fine. Ace and I will just head over to the palace and have a little chat with Jada and Krissin,” Mark said, daring me to leave without him.
I sighed again, let go of Alia’s arm and took his.
“Fine. We need to go somewhere quiet, though,” I said. Everyone in the pub was still staring at us. So much for staying inconspicuous.
“We can go to my parents’ cottage,” Alia said. “They’re working now and won’t mind if I have friends over while they’re gone.”
She crooked her finger for us to follow her through the doorway.
“But that,” she pointed at my arm on Mark’s, “has to stop before we leave the pub. Remember who you are right now, Reychel. Slaves don’t hang on the arms of,” she paused, “who are you?”
“No one,” Mark said.
Ace snorted, still nursing his bruised cheek.
I felt my bald head with my hand, remembering that I wasn’t free, I was a slave again. I disentangled my arm from Mark’s and hung my head. Better to play the part than be caught.
“Now follow me, Reychel,” Alia said. She pointed at the boys. “You two stay behind us. Far behind us. People would wonder about two men and two slave girls walking together. It just isn’t done.”
“Not a problem,” Mark said. “I’m anxious to find out what’s going on here.”
Ace nodded. A red mark slowly spread across his face. I wondered if it would bruise. I almost hoped it would.
I followed Alia to the outskirts of town and through a cluster of cottages. She knocked on the door of the last cottage, closest to the forest. After no one answered, she unlocked the door with another key hidden in her robes.
“I just wanted to make sure no one was home,” she said, opening the door. “I’d hate to scare my parents by walking in on them.”
I nodded, looking behind us. I hadn’t seen Mark or Ace in the crowds of the city, but somehow I knew they were close by.
Alia walked over to the cooking area and set a pot on the coals to warm up some water for tea. She pulled a hunk of bread off the counter and gave me an orange from a bowl on the table.
“Thanks to your friends we didn’t get to eat lunch,” she said. “We should now.”
A loud knock at the door startled me just as I was about to put the bread in my mouth. They had been careful not to be seen while trailing behind us, and now one of them knocked hard enough to alert the entire town.
Alia jumped up and opened the door a crack. She nodded and then opened it all the way. Ace and Mark came in as quickly as they could. Alia shut the door behind them.
“This all appears very improper,” Alia said, sitting back down at the table. “If anyone should see us, I’m in danger of losing my job at the palace.”
Ace smiled. “Improper. Just the way I like things.” Mark hit him on the shoulder.
“How can you call it a job?” I asked between mouthfuls. “That implies that you’re earning money. But you aren’t, are you?”
Alia shook her head. “No, I’m not earning money, but I’m earning my keep. A place to sleep, a place to live.”
I looked around her parents’ cottage. It wasn’t big but it seemed more comfortable than what Alia had at the palace. I didn’t understand it.
“What I want to know is what you’re doing out in the town and why, in the name of Eloh, did you shave your head?” Mark asked, sitting down opposite of me. He reached out to touch my head, but pulled it back before making contact. He’d never seen me bald before, maybe I repulsed him now.
Ace stood against the wall, arms folded, keeping watch on the door while Mark kept watch over me.
“I’m trying to learn more about Zelor. I wanted to see his cottage, but Alia was right. We can’t go anywhere near it. This was probably all a waste of my time.”
“And the hair you’d grown back,” Ace said. I glared at him. “So why look out here?” he continued. “You think you’re going to find something roaming around the city dressed like a slave? I’m surprised no one has pulled you aside yet. You don’t look anything like a slave.”
“I have a shaved head and I’m wearing the robes. What else is there other than a brand?”
I instinctively looked at Alia as she rubbed the swan on the back of her neck.
“Your skin,” Ace said, not even looking at me. He was looking at his fingernails.
“What about my skin?” I asked.
“Too light,” he said. “All the slaves in the Southern Kingdom are either naturally dark skinned or their heads have tanned. Yours is
white, too white. It’s like a beacon saying, ‘see me? I don’t belong here!’ Really, Reychel, how could you not think of that before running out of the palace?”
I paused and glanced in the mirror on the opposite wall. I saw my reflection next to Alia’s. Ace was right. I did look out of place. What was I thinking?
“It’ll be okay, Reychel,” Alia said, shooting Ace a glance that told him to shut up. He grinned and went back to his nails.
“What’s done is done,” I said. “We walked by Zelor’s house, but it’s guarded and I can’t get in.”
“I’m telling you,” Alia said, “they cleaned it out generations ago. Anything they found is already in the palace.”
“I just have a feeling that if I could get in the cottage I’ll find something,” I insisted.
“We can get you in,” Ace said. “Easy.”
“There are two guards,” I said.
“Two guards?” Ace asked. “Two of us? I’m sure I could take care of the situation all by myself,” he said. “I don’t even need Mark’s help. When do you want in?”
“Why are you so eager to help?” I asked.
Ace’s face clouded over. “What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time, Prophet? I’ve been working my butt off to save yours. I broke into that wedding, something I had no interest in doing, but did because Mark told me who you are. I trekked my entire band of men down to the Southern Kingdom at a faster pace than we have ever traveled before. All so we could be here to help you.”
Speechless, I bit my lip. All I’d done was treat him badly and it appeared he’d only been doing what he believed in. I had to try to look past his attitude and to see the man who wanted to help, even if his methods were different than mine. But using death as a means to an end was against everything I’d ever believed. I needed to repay his honesty with an apology of my own.
“I’m sorry,” I said, standing up and walking over to Ace. “Can you forgive me?”
“Do I have to bow to you or grovel on the floor?” he asked, serious.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Would you if I asked?”
“No.”
I laughed again. “Then consider all forgiven,” I said. “I wouldn’t ask anyone to get on the floor in front of me. Alia did and I told her not to. Right?” I turned to Alia.
She nodded, a smile on her face. “It seems we’re all in this together.”
I looked at Mark, who’d been silent the whole time, staring at me. Maybe he regretted kissing me. Maybe he wished he would have snuck out of the tavern before Ace saw me and started the ruckus.
“Let’s do it,” Mark said.
Chapter Twelve
With our plan in place, the four of us slipped back out into the streets. Twilight descended upon the town, so no one really paid any attention to us. The coming darkness gave us another cover of anonymity and hid my pale scalp. This time Alia and I acted as Mark and Ace’s slaves. We walked a few paces behind them, our heads down, following them back to Zelor’s house, through the twisty and winding streets.
People filed through the pub’s open doors offering a welcoming respite for anyone who’d had a long day. The smell of warm bread and mead, wafted outside, beckoning passersby in. Part of me wanted to stop, to experience a normal life again for a few moments, but I knew I had to keep moving towards my goals. Time was running short and I needed answers about my gift.
As we rounded the corner of the dark street, within full view of the Prophet’s cottage, Ace hauled off and hit Mark square on the jaw. Mark fell to his knees and Ace wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist, tackling him to the ground.
“Did you have to make that so real?” Mark grunted.
“You hit me harder in the pub when I was bugging Reychel. Deal with it.” Ace grimaced and winked. His hair flew through the breezy air, making him look more like a rogue.
Alia and I tried not to laugh as the boys wrestled. The guards took notice and ran over. The first grabbed Ace, pulling him off of Mark.
“Are you okay, sir?” the guard asked Mark as he brushed himself off. Ace rotated his shoulders, fighting against the guard holding him.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Mark said. He pointed at Ace. “This man attacked me as I rounded the corner. Probably trying to steal my slaves.”
He pointed back to us and Alia and I lowered our heads like submissive slaves would do. Like Alia so often did when she first served me. It didn’t feel natural to me anymore. It felt like a denial of who I’d become.
“I wasn’t trying to steal your slaves,” Ace grunted. “You cheated me back at the pub. You stole my money playing cards and I want it back.” He struggled again against the guard, breaking free and taking another swing at Mark.
The two guards grabbed hold of Ace, keeping him from attacking Mark again.
“I think he’s drunk,” Mark said. “I wasn’t in a pub and I wasn’t playing card with him either. I’m simply on my way to a meeting.”
The guards sniffed Ace, recoiling at the smell of alcohol on his breath. Before we left Alia’s parents’ home he’d gargled with ale. Not that he didn’t drink it normally, but right now the goal was to smell drunk, without being drunk.
“You need to sleep it off,” the guard said to Ace. He struggled again, but the guards held firm. Knowing Ace he probably could have easily gotten free, but he played his part well.
“Not until I get my money back,” he snarled.
“If you don’t pipe down, you’ll spend the night in lockdown.”
I held my breath. This was just what we’d hoped for. The town was known for its potent ale and just as well-known for its drunks. Alia told us about a special lockup area just for them. If they didn’t do any real harm, they were released in the morning after they slept it off.
“I’ll haul him off while you stay here and keep guard.” The first guard said.
“No, I’ll take him.”
Ace struggled, hard, against both of them, nearly breaking away.
“It’s going to take both of us, I think,” the second guard said.
As they looked at each other, quietly debating what to be done, Mark urged us down the street.
“Thanks for taking him into your capable hands,” Mark said over his shoulder. “We’ll be on our way now. I’m probably already late for my meeting.”
As we walked towards the house, I glanced back, seeing the two guards dragging a struggling Ace back the way we had come. It worked! They were leaving their post, already forgetting about us.
“How long do we have?” I asked Alia.
“Maybe about ten minutes,” she said. “Longer if Ace can struggle harder.”
Mark muffled a laugh. “I’m sure he’ll keep them busy for a while. But we need to work quickly just in case.”
As soon as the guards and Ace rounded the corner, we sprinted back to the prophet’s cottage, turning the doorknob.
The door creaked open.
“It’s unlocked?” I asked.
“Appears that way,” Mark said. “Let me go in first, make sure it’s safe.”
“What could be in there?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but it seems strange that a door so heavily guarded is left unlocked.”
Mark lifted his right foot, ready to enter the home, but mid footfall, his boot wouldn’t touch the floor.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why are you waiting?”
Mark struggled, shoving his foot up to the doorway and recoiling back.
“I don’t understand. I can’t force myself to walk through.”
“What?” I asked. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I’d always heard it was guarded by magic,” Alia said. I looked at her with exasperation.
“Why didn’t you tell us that before?” I asked.
“I didn’t think it was real,” she said, shrugging.
I pushed Mark aside. “Let me try. I’m gifted, maybe I can get past it.”
Clenching my fists, I willed myself to walk for
ward. But as I lifted my knee, I felt my foot freeze midair. I struggled, straining as hard as I could with my muscles. I even set my hands upon my leg, pushing down, but my foot wouldn’t enter through the doorway.
“Someone is going to see us if we don’t get in there soon,” I said. “We can’t stand out here forever.”
I lifted my hand, attempting to pass it through the doorway, but it fell against the air as if it was solid wood.
“How do we get in?” I asked.
“I think I can get through it,” Alia whispered.
She put a finger out towards the invisible wall and it passed through easily. I gasped. How did she do that? I put a tentative finger next to hers and it stopped at the same place my foot had.
“Try touching my finger and sliding it through,” Alia said.
I placed my fingertip along the shaft of her finger and slid my fingertip down towards the invisible wall. I gasped as my finger slid right through.
“How?” I asked, looking at her, my eyes wide. “Are you…” my voice trailed off.
Alia nodded. “I’m gifted. I can detect fields and break them.”
“Does anyone else know?” I asked, stunned. No wonder she’d been so thrilled to meet me. It was one thing to believe in a fantasy. It was another to be gifted yourself and wonder if someday you might meet your supposed Prophet.
Alia nodded. “Nemison knows. But no one else. He told me to keep it a secret when I was little because he didn’t want the Malborn getting their hands on my talent.”
“Here,” she said, pulling her finger back out, “watch this. It takes just a little friction.”
Alia rubbed her hands together in a circle and I felt the warmth radiating from them. Then she squeezed her palms together. Quickly releasing them, she thrust her hands onto the invisible wall. Steam emanated from her hands, spreading out the length of the doorway. A hissing sound whistled as the invisible wall became visible for just a moment until it flickered out of view.
Krissin never told me any of her slaves were gifted. I didn’t understand the trick Alia just used. So far she’d done nothing but help me, but if she was gifted why hadn’t anyone told me?
