by David Ekrut
~Ricaria Beratum, 2996 A.S.
~
Elwin walked through the corridor to the market. He heard laughter and shouting alongside people crying their wares. Shops and taverns made a large square, where tables and booths surrounded a broad fountain. At the center were marble legs that had been broken at the shins. Water continued to sprout from the broken shaft and cascade downward. The remains of the man were in the bottom pool. Its crowned head had been lobbed off, and the hand holding a flame had been broken at the wrist. None in the small clusters of people around the market looked at the rubble. They carried on, bartering as if the statue was whole.
The largest group of people stood in one corner of the square. When he realized what they were doing, he froze.
They stood in front of gallows atop a raised platform. Two men and a woman in white robes hanged from the broad beam, nooses tight around their necks. Each of their foreheads had been branded like cattle. A queue of men and a few children stood before the gruesome sight. The boy in the front held rotting cabbage as if ready to throw. He loosed, falling well short of the dangling corpses.
The crowd jeered at the boy, who walked away with his head down. The next man stepped forward and handed a coin to the guardian beside the crate of rotted vegetables.
Elwin turned away, knees weak. He stumbled to the fountain and sat on the outer rim of the base. The guardians had taken over here. That’s why they controlled the gate.
“You all right?”
A young woman stood over Elwin, looking at him with concern. Her blond curls fell loosely about her shoulders. She wore a common dress and boots made for travel.
“I, uh, yes. I just … I’ve never seen dead bodies,” he lied. “It’s gruesome.”
She frowned toward the gallows. “Aye. It is, but there are so few Alcoan guards here, the guardians uphold the law now. This is the way it is, whether we like it or not.”
“How did this happen?”
“Where have you been? The dragons have changed everything. Are you not a noble?” She looked him over, taking in his expensive attire.
“No. I’m a scribe,” he said to be consistent with the lie he’d told the guardian at the gate. “I’ve been out east for a while.”
She placed a hand over her mouth in surprise. “So you didn’t know? Have you not seen one?”
“No. I heard tales, but it’s hard to believe.”
“I know. I didn’t believe it at first, either. But I’ve seen one. It went for an elementalist and left after killing her, but the guardians said those three hanging over there brought the thing upon us. They say the dragon took their ability to tame somehow, but that didn’t stop the guardians from stringing them up. If it’s true, it’s a mercy if you ask me.”
“A mercy? Why would you say that?”
“Can you imagine being able to fly like a bird or command flames and hold such fantastical power, only to have it ripped away?”
Elwin did not answer, but she pressed on anyway.
“From what I hear, those poor souls surviving the dragons become less, apathetic to everything. More than one has taken their own lives. Then again, that could be because they are on the run and would rather die than be captured and tortured. Guardians have outlawed taming and offered rewards for anyone with the ability. And that’s part of the problem. Most of those with the ability only tame in an attempt to get away from the guardians. We should give them a chance to do the right thing, rather than assume they’re criminals.”
“What do you mean by the right thing?” he asked.
“Just don’t tame.”
“But how would that be any different than having your essence ripped from you?”
“Essence?”
“It’s what gives elementalists the ability to tame,” Elwin explained.
She cocked her head, looking at him with heavy suspicion. “How do you know so much?”
“I study all manner of topics, and I am somewhat of an expert on elementalists.”
“So you know some elementalists? Each one is worth a thousand gold to the guardians.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t know any, but I’ve spoken with a few. From what I understand, it physically hurts not to release power. An essence can only grow so large.”
She took a deep breath and released it. “So I guess the guardians are right, after all. If they can’t help but tame, well, we can’t be having dragons hurting people.”
“But the elementalists are still innocent. They are the victims. They are being hunted for something they are born with. It would be like killing you for having curls or light freckles. It isn’t right.”
“Keep your voice down.” She looked around as if expecting the guardians to descend. When none did, she gave a sigh of relief. “You can’t talk like that here. Times have changed. Anyway, color has returned to your cheeks, and I need to get back to my table.” She reached out and touched a loose string on his tunic. “This could use some stitching. Or maybe you’d like to replace it. Would you care to see our fabrics?” She pointed to a table with bolts of cloth.
“No. I won’t be here long enough. I need to get back on the road. Do you know where I can find travel supplies? I need a new tent and bedroll.”
“There,” she said, pointing to the three story structure behind him. He’d passed the shop to get to the square. “The Mountaineer has the best gear. Tell Brantil, I sent you. My name’s Helma.”
“Call me Feffer.”
She studied his face, eyes squinting as if trying to see something afar. “You look familiar. Have you been here long?”
“No, not at all. I just arrived.”
“Do you have relatives here?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible, but none that I know.”
“I can’t put my finger on it, but I swear I’ve seen your face.” She shrugged. “Oh well. I suppose it doesn’t matter. If you have need of a tailor, come to me first. I’ll give you the best deal on tunics and cloaks this side of the King’s River. Hmm, I wonder if they’ll change the name of that now. Or maybe they’ll choose a new guardian to be king. Jorus Teblin most likely.”
“Jorus Teblin?” Elwin said, unable to hide his alarm.
“Aye,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “What’ve you got against him?”
“Nothing,” he replied, too quickly. “I just heard he’s a bit ruthless. That’s all. How do you know who he is? I heard he’s across the Tranquil Sea in the Island Nations.”
“That was months ago. He’s back in Alcoa City.”
“So the High Inquisitor is responsible for this?” He pointed to the gallows.
“Aye. And from what I hear, he’s got King Alcoa held prisoner in his own castle.” She leaned forward and whispered. “It’s a pity if you ask me. We are Alcoa. The royal family has led us through dark times and given us the long peace. Now it’s all over.” She nodded toward the gallows. “That’s what we have to look forward to, but what can you do? Us wee folk can only sit by and watch it happen. Everybody’s scared and just trying to get by, you know? You with your scribbles and me with my needle. Hang in there, Feffer. We’ll get through this.”
She offered him a hand. Elwin took it and stood. “Thank you, Helma.”
“My pleasure.” She smiled, and turned back to her table of fabrics.
He looked closer at her as she rearranged her wares. Her hair was groomed and clothes well-tended, but they were loose. There were hints of dark circles beneath her eyes. Elwin had taken her for slender, but her cheeks looked gaunt.
Glancing into his purse, he saw gold and platinum glimmer in the morning light. He needed gear and horses, but she was in greater need than he and Daki. He approached her table, found a stout woolen cloak of a rich green hue.
“How much for this?”
“Five silver.”
He made as if f
ishing through his purse. Giving her a frown, he pulled out a platinum piece, worth at least ten gold. Knowing it to be worth twenty times her asking price he handed it to her.
She looked at the coin in horror. “I can’t give change for this.”
“It’s the smallest I have.”
“Can you come back later? Maybe I’ll sell enough to—”
“I cannot, but I do not need change.”
She folded her arms. “I’m not begging for alms. I’m selling quality wares here.”
“This is not charity,” he lied. “In this economy, you are underselling your goods. I need a cloak and do not have the time to make change or return.”
She looked as though she might argue, but he saw the pride go out of her. He felt guilty at that, but she had been kind and was in need. Finally, she gave a terse nod and stuffed the coin into a small purse at her belt.
“Thank you,” he said. “It will be quite cold where I travel. This will be worth far more than I paid very soon.”
She gave him a weak smile. “Safe journeys.”
Folding the cloak, he shoved the garment into his pack and walked toward the Mountaineer. He avoided looking at the gallows, but he could not ignore the cheers or the sound of cabbage thudding against a body.
He quickened his step, taking the stairs to the shop two at a time. He passed all the gear on the covered porch, scarcely seeing it. He just wanted to be inside, away from the spectacle in the square. He hurried inside and pushed the door closed, muting the sounds of brutal merriment.
Despite his efforts to push the images away, he could still see those elementalists hanging. They’d been murdered, and those people celebrated that injustice. He could feel his own essence more acutely. His very existence was now a crime.
This would not stand. The incantations were the only way to make the world right again. He needed to find a faster way to get to Iremine, then on to Abadaria. The dimensional folding could only take him to a place he could envision. Was there a way to go somewhere he’d never been? A different incantation maybe?
“Can I help you, young master?”
Elwin turned to see an older man staring at him, eyes wide with more than a little fear.
“Yes,” he said more tersely than he intended. “Sorry. I need two tents and two blanket rolls small enough to attach to a travel pack. And if you have trail rations, I’ll take a month’s worth of dried beef and a decanter or two.”
The man wrung his hands together as though washing them, and his voice shook. “Yes. I have all of those. I’m afraid I’ll need to see your coins first. Hard times, you know.”
Elwin moved to the counter and held up his purse, jangling the coins. “How much?”
“Twenty-seven gold.”
“That much?”
“As I said. Times are hard.”
Elwin dug the coins out. When he laid the gold pieces on the counter, the old shopkeeper nodded slowly but looked no less nervous. He raised a shaky finger and pointed to the doorway behind the counter.
“I’ll just go get your goods.”
He rushed around the counter and through the door without putting his back to Elwin.
“Strange man,” Elwin noted.
When the man had gone, Elwin looked around the front room. Steps led up to higher floors, where he could see a variety of tools for travel or mountain climbing. Taking stock of the goods on racks and shelves of this floor, he could see every item he had asked for.
Where in the abyss had the man gone?
Then he saw several sketches on the wall next to the front door with posted bounties. One of the drawings was of a thin-faced man with a wispy goatee, named Jaxton Fliste, who was alongside a brute of a man, called Daren Ironclad. Their rewards were substantial, but not nearly so large as the one of the young man with long hair. His high cheekbones and narrow chin looked familiar.
When he reached the name at the bottom, Elwin sucked in a breath. “What in the abyss?”
Elwin Solsec, son of Bain, wanted for crimes of murder, taming, and calling down the wrath of the dragons. Reward: 50,000 roses dead or 75,000 alive. Posting paid by High Inquisitor Jorus Teblin.
He looked at the face again. It was not a perfect likeness, but it was close enough. It was a wonder the guardians at the gate had not recognized him. Elwin snatched it off the wall, hoping he could get out of this city before anyone marked him as the person in the sketch.
Where was that thumping shopkeeper?
Looking out the window, Elwin could see the man standing next to a pair of guardians, pointing toward the shop. What was he doing out there? He was supposed to be gathering Elwin’s gear. He looked down at the poster in his hand and felt ten kinds of a fool. The man had been wary, despite Elwin’s polite demeanor.
“Curse it all!”
The merchant had known Elwin’s identity. Holding the crumpled vellum made him feel all the more guilty. The guardians stepped to either side of the shopkeep and marched toward the building. Elwin didn’t need to hear the man to know the words coming from the guardian’s lips. When the crowd in front of the gallows dropped their cabbage and hurried after the guardians, Elwin’s legs moved of their own accord.
He put his back to the shelf beside the door and heaved. Slowly, it toppled and crashed loudly to the wooden floor. It would not take the crowd long to get through, but it would buy him a few minutes at least.
Despite the shopkeep’s treachery, he could not bring himself to steal from the man. He left the coins on the counter and grabbed the gear he needed from the shelves and racks, shoving them into a large pack as he moved.
When fists pounded on the door behind him, he abandoned his efforts to shove his two tents into the bag. He snatched up the goods and ran out the back.
The short hallway led to a large storehouse with stacked crates and spare tools. Two young men about Elwin’s age huddled in the corner. Upon seeing Elwin, they held each other. One of them whimpered. For reasons he didn’t quite understand, their reaction angered him.
“I am not the enemy!” Elwin shouted at them. “I am trying to save us all, for Life’s sake.”
When the smaller of the two began weeping, Elwin ran for the back door. It slammed open, sending a loud crash through the narrow alley. He could just see the mass of men in the courtyard. He ran away from the square, hoping the sound of his boots would not attract his pursuers.
But his hopes died after someone shouted, “Look! He’s over there!”
His every instinct told him to seize Air and take to the skies, but he forced down his panic. He gathered his will and began to incant the words. He could return to the river, where Taego would be waiting for him.
Pain erupted from his skull. Stars exploded through his vision. He staggered back. A marble hand, holding a broken flame bounced to the cobbles beneath his feet. He touched the lump on the side of his head and his fingers came back red.
The mob ran toward him.
Abandoning his attempts to incant, he fled. If he failed, they would be on him. If he could gain some distance, he would try again. As he ran, he realized this was the narrow alley he’d walked through earlier.
Exiting, he turned toward the large estate. The gate stood as tall as the wall, which was far too large to climb up. At least a foot thick, the doors appeared huge and heavy. They were held ajar by a small stick. Fully aware of the sounds of the mobs fighting to get through the alley, he peeked into the gap. There were plenty of places to hide behind those manicured gardens and tall trees.
The door did not move as he pushed a shoulder into it. His heart raced. His lead was not so great. They would exit the alley any second and see him. He heaved with all of his might, but it barely moved. He used the stick to wedge it wide enough to work his arm through.
Backing up, he threw his pack and tents over the wall and renewed his efforts to pas
s through the gates. He shoved his knee into the gap and worked his hip through next. Once his chest made it inside, the rest of his body came. He heard his tunic tear but didn’t slow to inspect the damage.
Gathering his extra pack and tents, he ran toward the main building, searching desperately for a place to hide. There was a row of green bushes on the side of the house. He sprinted for them as fast as his legs could carry him. He ducked behind the tallest shrubs.
Elwin could hear the crowd fighting each other to get down the narrow alley. His heart thundered, and he fought to muffle his heavy breathing.
Then, he noticed movement from the side of the house. Looking up, he could see a large man with dark skin dangling from the highest balcony. It was the Kalicodian from earlier. He let go, dropping to a lower ledge, then he climbed the rest of the way down.
Where was his companion?
Then he appeared in the doorway, looking over his shoulder as if someone was following him. His wavy hair swooshed as he whipped his head back toward the large man.
The one on the balcony stared for some time before the Kalicodian called in a whispered-shout, “Jax. Let’s go!”
Jax held up a thin rod covered in eloiglyphs and said, “Catch.”
The moment Jax loosed the artifact, his eyes landed on Elwin and blinked in surprise. Despite the beard, Elwin recognized the man. The sketches. Both of these men were criminals, and by the looks of it, they were robbing this manor.
He considered running, but he looked over the hedges. The mob had made their way through the alley.
“Hey,” a voice called. “He went this way!”
The doors to the estate pushed open with far less trouble than Elwin experienced. Somehow, their numbers had grown.
Elwin felt a strong grip on his shoulder and was turned roughly to see two angry faces glaring at him. He felt the sharp edge of a dagger at his throat. Elwin had not seen Jax climb down. The man stared at him with a grim expression.
