“I’m the one who saved your life and who spared your life,” I retorted. “I’m the one who will help you get your magic back. I’m the one who holds your life in my hands. We are equals in this.”
“You would not talk to me like that if I had magic,” she stated, sky blue eyes glittering defiantly.
“But you don’t, do you?” I allowed a smirk.
She glared at me, foot tapping furiously. “Fine,” she surrendered. “Please, tie the sleeves back so the shirt does not fall off.”
“We’ll work on that,” I allowed and tied back the sleeves. “So I guess you need to fill this out a bit more?”
“I am plenty filled out,” she retorted.
“Relax, it was just a joke,” I sat down, wincing with pain.
“It was a terrible joke,” she replied.
“Not my best, I’ll admit,” I said.
“Take off your shirt,” she commanded.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Take off your shirt, please,” Athala repeated with a roll of the eyes. “I need to examine your ribs.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” I shrugged, taking off my mail and tunic, which was a far more painful process than I would’ve liked.
I felt awkwardly exposed and her staring at me didn’t help. She frowned, running her fingers over the bruising skin, occasionally pressing down.
“Yow!” I yelped.
“Stop whining,” she barked and continued probing. “Your ribs are not broken but they are badly bruised. Cut my dress into strips and wrap it tight around your side. What happened to your chest?”
I glanced down at the four long thin scars running across my chest. “This? I took on a nandi bear protecting my dad’s sheep.”
“That was stupid,” she remarked.
“Thanks mom,” I joked back, tying the cold, wet strips around myself.
“I am not your mother,” she blankly responded.
“That was a joke too,” I shook my head. “I can’t have my partner be a wet blanket all the time.”
“Wet blanket?” she looked up, eyebrow arched.
“Yeah. A wet blanket because you were, you know, soaking wet.”
I just got a blank stare.
“You know, wet blanket, someone who has no sense of humor and because you were soaking wet? Nothing? Adamah’s courts woman, you are hopeless,” I shook my head with a chuckle.
“Or perhaps you are not funny,” she retorted.
“I swear by the Trinity, before this is over I will make you laugh,” I declared.
“I would not hold your breath,” she sardonically remarked. “You can put your shirt back on.”
“Oh, right.” I gingerly pulled my clothes back on and leaned back, closing my eyes.
“When was the last time you got some sleep?” Athala asked.
“It’s, uh, been awhile,” I admitted. “The Finsternis Tal was…unpleasant.”
“Get some sleep,” she instructed. “We have a long climb up and you will probably have to fight once we get there. I need you to be at best possible strength.”
“Concern noted,” I dryly remarked. “What about you?”
“I will be fine,” she replied. “If anything happens, I promise to wake you.”
I wanted to protest but I felt the fatigue overwhelming me. “As you wish,” I commented, tucking my pack under my head and closed my eyes. Sleep took me instantly.
Chapter 14-Athala
Hours later I woke up cold. The fire had long gone out and it was dark out. I wondered how long we’d been asleep as I stiffly sat up. I missed my bed. With a touch of dark humor, I wondered how Zimri was going to react to getting up.
I felt a rattling in my chest and began a hacking cough. Schaf, I swore internally. The last thing I needed was to get sick and have this stupid Alkite carry me through the Black Falls.
“Adamah’s breath!” Zimri suddenly cursed in the dark.
“Sore?”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “What time is it?”
“I do not know,” I answered, rising to my feet. “My guess is we are close to dawn. We will need to be going soon.”
In the dark I heard Zimri moving around until he relit the fire, adding the remnants of his boat to the blaze.
“Let’s eat first,” he suggested. “I’m guessing it isn’t a short trip?”
No.”
“Then we’ll need our strength,” he remarked and rummaged around his pack for a moment. He produced some battered fruit, several strips of meat, and some cheese. Placing the meat over two sticks, he set it over the fire. Then he tossed me the fruit, which I promptly dropped. After picking it up, I examined the strange, pink, egg-shaped fruit curiously.
“It’s called dragon fruit,” Zimri supplied, reading my curiosity.
“Why? Does it grant you strength? Fire breath?”
“What? No, don’t be ridiculous,” Zimri scoffed. “Although, my mom did make me eat a lot of it when I was sick and after the nandi incident. She said it would help me feel better faster.”
“So it has healing properties,” I guessed. “I suppose you will need this more than…” I sputtered off into a coughing fit.
“I think you may need that, dragon lady,” he commented with a wry grin.
“Dragon lady?” I was taken aback by the nickname.
“Sure,” he playfully answered. “You throw fire, you’re tough, and rather temperamental.”
“Temperamental?” I questioned irritably.
“Is that not a characteristic of dragons?”
I glared at him, which did nothing to wipe that irascible smile off his face.
“You really don’t have a sense of humor,” he shook his head, handing me his knife. “Try not to cut yourself.”
I decided not to dignify that with a response. Instead, I took the jeweled-encrusted, curved dagger, I cut open the fruit, finding a white meat speckled with black seeds. It tasted rather good. Sweet but not overly so, and very juicy.
“Pity it isn’t fresh,” Zimri commented. “So what’s the plan, sunshine?”
“Sunshine?” I looked sharply at him.
“You didn’t like dragon lady,” he shrugged. “Besides, sunshine so much better fits your bright and cheerful personality.”
I wanted to smack him. “The plan,” I gritted my teeth, “is to get to the top of the mountain road and sneak into the castle without the soldiers knowing.”
“I’m guessing that’s a lot more complicated than it sounds,” Zimri handed me as strip of cooked meat with a chunk of cheese.
“Ya,” I nodded. “We should focus on getting to the castle first. It is likely we will run into a party coming down to check up on my execution.”
“That’s…comforting.” Zimri stood and pulled the mail coat over his shirt, tightening the leather ties. “Shall we go?”
I swallowed down the last bits of cheese and rose. “We shall. No torches,” I added, stopping him from lighting a stick. Zimri gave me a questioning look in return.
“Light will give us away before we can see them,” I explained.
“True but how will we not get lost?”
“Simple, just keep going up,” I explained. “There is not anything to run into and the road does not change.”
“If you say so, sunshine,” Zimri shrugged, extinguishing his torch and gesturing for me to lead. “After you,” he said.
With that, we began our long, arduous climb up the Mountain Road. Every now and then, Zimri would attempt to start a conversation but I wasn’t in the mood to talk, certainly not to this infuriating Alkite. I couldn’t wait until I got these cuffs off; he wouldn’t be so talkative and easy going then. Then he would fear me, as he should!
“How much farther?” the Alkite suddenly asked, breathing heavily in the dark.
“We are about halfway there, maybe a bit more than half,” I answered. “Having trouble?”
“That obvious?” he breathed but there was a note of amusement in his voice. “I
thought I was in pretty good shape but I guess not. You’re in pretty impressive shape to handle this hike.”
“You already know how good a shape I am in,” I retorted, feeling with satisfaction his embarrassment in the dark.
“I, uh, I guess, I, uh, suppose,” he stammered awkwardly. Good.
I was tempted to tell him that he was probably experiencing a combination of altitude change and sheer exhaustion from his travel up the Finsternis, as well as hiking up with bruised ribs. In truth, he was proving remarkably resilient for a soft Alkite. But I’d kiss a dragon before I told him that.
We stood in silence, catching our breath. He may not have noticed it, but I was worn out myself. Both of us would need our strength when we reached the top of the road. So we leaned against the wall in rest.
“You want to tell me about those scars?” he asked in the silence.
“No.”
“Tell me anyway,” he demanded. “It’s not like we’ve got anything better to do.”
“If I tell you, will you shut up?”
“For now, sunshine,” he answered impertinently. If only I had my magic to turn him to ash.
“Whatever,” I growled. “Since you are so insistent, most of my scars come from training accidents, Magic is dangerous.”
“And the scars on your back?” he pointedly questioned me. “I recognize flogging scars when I see them.”
I gritted my teeth. “The Mistress does not like failure,” I simply responded.
“And the scar across your chest, was that a result of her displeasure?” he prodded.
“No, she burned me there for training,” I answered. “We had to learn to withstand extreme heat, as well as extreme cold, hunger, thirst, and pain.”
“Such as?”
“She made us stand naked in the snow for two days straight once, branded us, forced us to go weeks without food, or days without water,” I expanded, unsure why I was telling him all this.
“Your childhood sounds lovely,” he remarked.
“It was not a childhood; it was training,” I shrugged in the dark. “It was necessary to make us strong enough to handle magic.”
“Sounds more like she was trying to beat your humanity out of you,” Zimri suggested, a touch of sympathy in his voice, like I need that.
“I survived and became powerful,” I countered flatly. “It was—”
I stopped short as I saw a faint light hovering in the distance, maybe hundred meters up the switchback. After spending the last several hours in pitch darkness, it stood out sharply.
“What’s that?” Zimri asked, his tight voice just above a whisper.
“The search party, I believe,” I answered. “Do you have a bow?”
“Of course not!” He sounded offended. “That’s a peasant’s and coward’s weapon!”
“It is also a very useful weapon to take out opponents before they can attack you,” I countered, irritated by his Alkite sense of honor. “We will just have to be fast.”
“And by ‘we,’ you mean me,” he answered, rising.
“I mean we; give me your knife,” I demanded.
“So you do have a sense of humor after all,” Zimri retorted.
“I am not joking.”
“But you’re a woman!” he protested.
“Is that supposed to mean something?” I shot back.
“Women don’t fight,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“You expect me to fight the Mistress,” I pointed out.
“With magic, which you don’t have,” he countered. “That’s different.”
“No, it is not,” I glanced up, judging the party to be halfway down the switchback by now. I could now make out the silhouettes of about four soldiers. “We do not have time for this so give me the knife!”
“Fine,” he growled and I felt the cold dagger pressed into my palm. “Don’t hurt yourself and stay out of my way.”
He started forward but I grabbed him and pulled him back. “What are you doing?” I hissed.
“Going to attack them,” he answered simply.
“By walking right up to them?” I demanded sharply. “We can see them but they cannot see us. Hide around the corner and we will ambush them.”
“Ambush them? That’s not fair!” he objected.
“Neither is 4-2 odds,” I pointed out.
“4-1,” he corrected.
“Whatever.” I didn’t feel like arguing the point. “An ambush levels the odds, or would you rather the princess languish under my Mistress’s touch because you got yourself killed by ‘being fair’?”
“I would rather I rescued her with my integrity intact,” he grumbled but allowed me to pull him around the corner.
A few moments later we heard the thudding of armored boots as the soldiers came down. Zimri quietly drew his scimitar and waited, back pressed against the wall. Light began to shine on the corner wall as they approached. A moment later, they stepped into sight.
Whatever the Alkite’s misgivings about the ethics of our tactic were, they did not stop him from fighting full force. With remarkable speed, he exploded from behind the wall and slashed the nearest soldier’s throat before any of them could react. Getting behind the next closest, Zimri hamstrung that one and nearly cut off his head. Two down, two to go.
By now, the farthest two had thrown the torch on the ground and formed a shield wall to face Zimri. He danced left, then right trying to outmaneuver them but the pair matched his movements. Instead, he managed to get himself pinned against the wall. They advanced quickly and thrust.
He barely managed to roll out of the way, one spear grazing off the scale coat. I heard him grunt in pain; the roll could not have felt good on his ribs. But the Alkite doggedly popped up and scrambled around him, getting up hill. Zimri tried to flank them, but they pivoted in time and he slammed against their shields. Still he had the high ground and—
And he’d positioned the soldiers’ backs to me. I didn’t know if it was intentional or not but I seized the chance. Awkwardly unsheathing the knife, I raced forward, raising it with both hands and drove it home just underneath the helmet into the spinal cord. He seized for a moment, then dropped.
The other soldier turned to face this new threat, taking his attention off Zimri momentarily. Capitalizing on the opportunity, the Alkite swung his scimitar with all his strength, decapitating him.
“Thanks,” he panted, leaning over and grimacing.
I nodded. “We must keep moving,” I instructed. “There maybe more.”
“Lovely,” the Alkite commented, straightening. “Let’s go before I can’t move.”
We encountered no more search parties the rest of the way up. We might as well have brought the torch with us; Zimri’s labored breathing was loud enough I’m certain they heard us in the castle itself. He must have been miserable but he stubbornly continued to match me, as if being outdone by a girl was the worst possible embarrassment. Maybe it was.
“Halt,” I ordered as I saw another light. It illuminated the passage just enough for me to see a second passage going off to the left.
“I thought you said there was only one road,” Zimri said.
“There is,” I answered. “This passage leads to the lower castle, while the main road continues to the upper castle.”
“Why is it unguarded?” Zimri asked warily, reaching for his sword.
“That is part of the trap,” I explained. “I purposely gave the lower castle the appearance of being undefended so that your army would go there. Then, as they gathered in the courtyard, we could simply rain arrows down on them, slaughtering them like sheep. If they tried to push up to the upper castle, they would run into the main part of my army blocking the road a little way up.”
In the dim light Zimri looked a combination of impressed and disturbed. “Not very honorable,” he finally commented. “But I can see how that would be effective.”
“I only care about winning; honor means nothing to me,” I st
ated.
“I’ve noticed. So what’s our road?”
“We follow the trap,” I answered. “The tools necessary to get my cuffs off are in the lower castle.”
“You want us to walk into a trap?” he asked sharply.
“A trap I made, ya,” I nodded. “The trap was designed for an army, not just two people. Besides, we are not leaving through the upper castle. We should be fine.”
“Should?”
“I set this trap and this is my castle,” I sighed. “You will just have to trust me.”
“This is how my tombstone is going to read,” he shook his head. “‘Here lies Zimri of House Lim, beloved son and idiot who trusted a sorceress. The end.’”
“You are welcome to try on your own,” I irritably retorted.
“Nothing?” he questioned. “I swear by the Trinity, I will make you laugh before this is over.”
“Not if that is the best humor you have to offer,” I returned.
“Lead on, sunshine,” he resigned with a sigh. “I’ve trusted you this far.”
Chapter 15-Zimri
“Ugh!” I nearly threw up as I trailed Athala into her lab. “What is that smell? Adamah’s actual breath?”
“Of course not,” Athala retorted, “You will get used to the odors.”
I doubted that as he blinked away tears. My eyes, nose, and throat burned from some abominable combination of cat pee, rotten eggs, citrus, decaying almonds, and bouquet of other noxious fumes.
“This can’t possibly be healthy,” I remarked, uselessly rubbing my eyes.
“Probably not,” Athala agreed indifferently. “Now find the acid. It is a clear liquid in a glass vial with a cork stopper.”
I scanned the room, noting several such vials. “Could you be more specific?”
“It is that one,” Athala gestured with her hands towards the far shelf. “Top shelf, third from the right.”
I retrieved the vial and returned to Athala, who had placed her cuffed hands over the stone center table. She had managed to strip off what was left of her dress and stood nude, which didn’t seem to bother her at all. It sure made me uncomfortable. Beside her was a bucket of water.
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