by C S Vass
“I…I…”
She held her silence.
“I see. Nothing quite warms the soul like trust between old friends.” He took a long drag from the wineskin.
“Don’t take the high ground with me, Donyo,” she said.
“Leave it. I’d rather not argue. I’m not used to homelessness and if I’m going to die in a gutter, I’d sooner do it in silence.”
“You’re not going to die,” she said. “Stop being so dramatic. We’ll figure this out.”
“Indeed. Let’s do it tomorrow, preferably with a thrashing headache. Those always help me think. Meanwhile, why don’t we catch up a little more, Fiona. I wouldn’t mind knowing what you’ve been up to these last two years.”
“There’s not much to talk about.”
“Well, forgive me if I find that a bit hard to believe.” He handed her the wineskin.
She scoffed. “I’ve hardly been in Haygarden two days and I’ve already drank more than I have in the last two years.” Nevertheless she took a pull.
“The city has certainly had more than enough reason to drink,” Donyo said. “Now on with your story. It’s been a depressing day for me and the least that you could do is tell me something about the outside world that will make me smile.”
“I haven’t had much of a reason to smile the last two years,” Fiona said. She was gazing into the fire, watching the red and yellow flames chase themselves in the hearth. “After everything that happened I just couldn’t bear to go back to Clearwater. I had planned on it, but since she died…”
She pushed a log with a metal poker feeding air to a new pocket of flames that crackled and spat embers.
“I understand,” Donyo said. “I’m sure Helena would understand as well.”
“She would be so mad if she knew that I never graduated,” Fiona said.
“Yes,” Donyo said, with a small chuckle. “I don’t imagine she would be overly pleased. She would probably petition Sandra to have you taken back to school in chains.”
“Sandra would do it too.”
“None of that matters now. But tell me, what were you doing when you left the city? Where did you go?”
“So much of it was a blur. I roamed the countryside, mostly. I went town to town, searching for any sign of the Vaentysh Boys. I was in such a bad place, Donyo. There were so many nights that I didn’t care where I slept. Nights that I didn’t care what happened to me. It’s like I was possessed. The only thing on my mind was…him.”
She was embarrassed to realize that there was a lump in her throat and her eyes were beginning to water. She blinked away the tears and laughed. “Stupid fire is making me sentimental.”
“Fires and old friends will do that,” Donyo said. “Fiona, I’m sorry. I should have been here for you. We all should have been. The court was swept up by these damn moneylenders so quickly. I think we all managed to convince ourselves that if we buried our heads in the minute-to-minute work we could somehow stave off the inevitable. But here we are. We should have focused more on each other, and less on the aspects of governing that were simply out of our hands.”
“You did what you could,” Fiona said. “How were you to know how this would all work out?”
“Still, I’m sorry. And I want to help you. You deserve some closure in all of this, and I know you won’t have that until Rodrick is brought to justice.”
His name felt like a knife in her chest. “I’ll kill him,” she said. “I have a lead. Kevin Lovewood was being held by the Forgotten. Now he’s with the city guard. If there was a way to question him…he might know something.”
“Fiona, you mustn’t play games with them. The Forgotten are ruthless thugs. I don’t know what they’ve told you, but they are far more ambitious than most of this city realizes. Tell me you didn’t promise them anything in return?”
She looked into Donyo’s off-grey eyes, crinkled with worry around the edges, and thought of what Brandon had asked of her. In that moment Fiona hated herself.
“No. It’s not like that. Don’t worry about me, Donyo. I have everything under control.”
“Why do I not feel reassured? I can’t stop you from doing anything Fiona, but please take my warning seriously. Those people are not to be taken lightly under any circumstance.”
“What of me, Donyo? Am I to be taken lightly? Do you still see the young girl from Clearwater? Just a damsel as helpless as Sasha.”
Donyo scowled. “You know I have never seen you in any such way, Fiona. You shouldn’t say such things. Have you even seen Sasha yet? You really should. The girl needs you. Not everything is alright with her. Just before you came she—”
“I don’t care!” Fiona said. It wasn’t until after the words were out that she realized she had shouted at him. “I don’t care about Sasha Rains right now,” she said more calmly. “I didn’t come back to see her. I came back because I’m searching for Rodrick, and that’s all you need to know.”
Donyo sighed. He looked so tired, sunken into his chair. He seemed ten years older than when Fiona had first met him.
“Very well, Fiona. I can’t make you care about your friends. I just hope that you understand that there are still people in this city that care about you. There always have been.”
Chapter Eight
Fiona was up before the sun the next day. It was a freezing cold grey-blue morning. Donyo was snoring loudly by the last dying embers of the fire. Without waking him Fiona pulled her heaviest cloak over her shoulders, strapped her two swords to her back, and crept into the city streets.
Her plan was to catch Martin before his shift began. She could convince him of the importance of letting her speak with Kevin Lovewood and maybe learn enough from him about Rodrick that she wouldn’t need to worry about the Forgotten or betraying Donyo. It was a good plan. It gave her a renewed sense of purpose, something she could hold on to without feeling a deep and biting shame.
She moved like a shadow, past simple wood and stone houses cluttered together the way beggars huddle together for warmth. Martin would listen to her. He had to. She would just have to keep her calm and not give him any reason to become angry. Surely they still had enough of a history that she could sway him.
“You’ve recovered from your ordeal quickly.”
The words startled her so badly she nearly tripped. She turned abruptly, and without even realizing what she was doing had the demon-pommel blade naked in her hands. “Why are you following me?” she shouted.
The sorceress’s laughter was high and mocking. She walked slowly, back haunched over and eyes glittering malevolently. “I see you use the demon-pommel blade for regular affairs. I still want to know, child, when you face your brother will you use the demon blade, or the dragon?”
Fiona’s eyes narrowed. Her heart pounded in her chest like a forge hammer. “If I were you I’d be more concerned about the blade that’s in my hands now, Suomo.”
Suomo laughed again, sharp and high. Her laughter reminded Fiona of shrieking dogs. “You spit on the hand that seeks to feed you. Your mistake child, your mistake.”
“Why have you found me?” Fiona demanded. She had no time to waste with this false witch.
“A matter of personal interest,” Suomo cackled. “Not everyone takes so well to the transformation, even days later. I’m impressed. I expected to find a corpse when I finally crossed your path.”
“Yeah, well maybe you should check your spell books again. Your magic hasn’t done a thing for me, and the manjeko has been completely worthless.”
For the first time Suomo did not smile, and her face was hideous. “Be silent, you ingrate,” she growled. Fiona felt as if an iron fist had just closed around her throat. Her eyes bulged as she tried to suck in air. “Be still.” At Suomo’s words Fiona was rooted to the spot. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as panic made her heart race.
“I will not allow one such as you to insult the manjeko. I will not! We have transcended boundaries of magic that were thought to belong
solely to the realm of the gods! I have done something awesome and terrible, and I will not be spit upon by the likes of you.”
Fiona was close to losing consciousness when her windpipe was freed and she sucked in sweet refreshing air. She fell to her knees, gasping for breath.
“There, now you’re in your proper place,” Suomo sneered. “Do not think to insult the manjeko again. You will find, in time, that it takes quite poorly to disrespect.”
“You speak about this magic like it’s alive,” Fiona said.
“Quite right,” Suomo agreed. “It is alive. It has chosen to enter into your body. Do not think yourself of greater importance than you are, child. You are merely a vessel through which great works will be done. Your autonomy, your independence, is irrelevant to the higher purpose at work.”
“What are you saying?” Fiona asked.
“You knew what you signed up for,” Suomo replied. The old sorceress opened and closed her gnarled bony hands. “In any case, there is a debt that must be paid before you can reap your reward. The manjeko will not be denied.”
“What do you mean, a debt that must be paid?” Fiona asked. “I did everything that you asked. You can’t keep tacking on conditions.”
“I do nothing,” Suomo said. “It is the manjeko that will decide things now.”
“I don’t understand,” Fiona said. “How can the manjeko decide things? How is it alive? Nothing that you’re saying makes any sense.”
“It will become clear soon. The manjeko will choose in its own time. You must be ready. You must be strong. The worst is yet to come. You were not powerful enough after absorbing the essence of the manjeko. To begin paying the debt you owe it then would surely have killed you. But you have rested. You are stronger now.”
Fiona eyed the old woman angrily and pushed the rising panic she felt in the pit of her stomach down as far as she was able to.
“You are confused, and quick to anger,” Suomo said. “That is understandable. Your anger may very well be one of the reasons the manjeko has chosen you in the first place. But all the same, it is time for the debt to be paid. Prepare yourself, child. This will not be easy for you.”
Fiona was ready to shout at her when the sorceress vanished. There was no puff of smoke, or loud noise. She simply was no longer there. Fiona turned around, looking up and down the snowy streets. She felt as if an incoming army was about to flood the area and attack her. What did Suomo mean by saying that it was time to pay a debt?
Perhaps it was all a ruse to make Fiona think that the magic had worked when it was really all just still smoke and mirrors. If the old witch thinks she can make a fool of me, she has another thing coming. She’s already wasted enough of my time, and now I might not make it to meet Martin early enough. If the manjeko turned out to be worthless, I will pay her a visit and make her regret the day she crossed me.
* * *
Such were the sour thoughts that ran through Fiona’s mind as the first rays of the rising sun touched the sky, sending fingers of light over the horizon. As she watched the glow expand she saw a small shape walking towards her.
Turning her attention, Fiona saw a grey dog. It approached her lazily, mouth open and tongue hanging out the side dripping with saliva. It looked oddly clean to be a street animal. Fiona sheathed her sword and knelt down to greet it.
The dog sniffed her hand cautiously and then let out two happy barks. Fiona smiled. “I wish I had some food for you, little guy. I’m hungry enough myself these days.” She looked into the creature’s eyes. They were a deep brown and looked old. Very old, she noticed as she observed them closer. Almost…knowing.
A deep fear seized her. Fiona could not have said why but suddenly her heart was racing. She tried to look away from the animal but found that she couldn’t. Something was keeping her locked in eyesight with this strange dog. Those eyes weren’t just old, they were ancient. They were eyes that had seen many lifetimes and contained wisdom that had been buried for millennia.
“What are you?” Fiona asked. She was shaking from head to toe. This fear was unlike any she had ever experienced.
The dog barked again, and the world dissolved into insanity.
Fiona was released from its gaze, but when she looked around all of the color was draining from the city around her. It happened slowly. The light blue in the sky, the various tan colors of the houses, the purple and yellow flowers in the sill of a house by her. All of them slowly drained away until the world became a landscape that consisted of shades of grey.
But the colors did not disappear. They had gone from the world, but fallen into the eyes of the dog. She looked at the creature, utterly baffled. Its eyes shone with a rainbow of light, explosive and powerful. They still looked at her, searching and knowing. Slowly they too changed, and Fiona was no longer looking at a rainbow, but a deep velvet red. The same velvet red in the eyes of the dog emerged in the sky as well so that the cloudless expanse above her matched them with its terrifying redness.
I’ve lost my mind. That was the only thought Fiona could center herself around. She started to accept that she had snapped, and her mind had broken reality. As she stumbled around shaking like a leaf in a storm, the world stabilized into this new terrible realm of grey with a deep red sky above her.
“This is what you asked for, is it not?” a deep and powerful voice asked her.
Fiona turned, and with astonishment she looked at the dog, but there was no dog. Before her now stood a man with broad powerful shoulders, a small mouth drawn into a tight smirk, and a sharp jawline that jutted out like a cliff. But the most captivating detail of this newcomer was his eyes, red as fine velvet. Red as blood.
“What’s happening?” Fiona asked.
The man didn’t answer, but slowly walked around her in a large circle. He looked her up and down, carefully, as though she were a choice piece of meat he was considering taking home from the market. After he completed his circle the man, the Beast, said, “You don’t understand your power. That is to be expected I suppose.”
His voice was a deep baritone that reminded Fiona of a loud low horn instrument.
“What’s happening?” she repeated. “You have to tell me what’s going on.”
He chuckled. The noise was almost polite as if he were laughing at an unfunny joke she had just told. She wanted to draw her sword, just to feel safer, but she couldn’t even move her arms they were shaking so badly. The fear was a deep penetrating horror. Fiona felt as though she was no longer in Tellos. As if she had just been transported to a faraway planet separated from any other living thing by realms of impossibility, with only this stranger to contend with.
“Calm yourself,” the Beast said. “My gods, had I known you would be this unprepared I wouldn’t have taken you here at all. You need to control your fear, Fiona. It will kill you in this realm if you don’t.”
She wanted to, but it was too much. The surrounding houses were the same houses. The streets were the same streets. She could still see the summit of the mountain and the edges of the castle at Sun Circle off in the distance. But she was no longer in Haygarden. Somehow she knew that. And it terrified her beyond comprehension.
“Take a deep breath,” the Beast cooed. “There you go. Nice and easy. I would offer you some water, but I don’t think your body could handle it here.”
“Where are we?” Fiona asked as soon as her voice was steady enough that she could speak. This is hell, she thought. Somehow without realizing it I’ve died, and the gods have sent me to the deepest pit of hell. She tried to gain control over herself but she could not stop shivering. It was as if she were suddenly plunged into the bottom of the ocean. The layers above her were too great. There was no hope of getting to the surface.
“That is a more complicated question than you realize,” the Beast said. “I will do what I can to answer it. The short answer is that you’re in Haygarden. In the Stone District. Right were you were before I found you.”
“This is not Haygarden,” Fi
ona said through chattering teeth. It was Haygarden, but not truly. The world was frozen. There was a leaf caught in an updraft that had halted its motion abruptly when the dog appeared and now hovered several feet behind the Beast’s head.
“We’re not going to get very far if you keep defying me,” the Beast said. “I told you, it’s complicated. We are in Haygarden. You’re just seeing it through different eyes. My eyes, to be precise.”
Fiona could not have said why but the thought was so horrible she almost passed out. She ran to one of the houses and looked into the glass. The reflection that looked back at her made her fall to her knees and empty her stomach.
“Oh, come on now, it’s not as bad as all that,” the Beast said. “Wasn’t it just last night you were the one telling your fat friend to stop being so dramatic.”
“My eyes,” Fiona stuttered. They were the same as the eyes of the Beast. The same color as the blood-red sky that expanded above them. The grey of the world around them only served to make that horrific red all the more excruciating.
“My eyes, actually, if you’re going to be technical about it,” the Beast said. “The eyes of the manjeko. This is what the world looks like, through them.”
Fiona tried to calm herself long enough to understand what was happening. She looked at the Beast, his terrifying, haunting eyes, his cocky masculine form. “Are you…are you the manjeko?”
He laughed loudly at that. Not the polite chuckling from before, but a bellowing hearty laugh from the bottom of his chest. “That one may be a little too complicated for right now,” the Beast said. “Let’s go back to your earlier question about where we are. There is an elder language, gone long before the first humans walked the earth. They called this place Kriech Lyollo. It is a world in-between worlds.”
“What does that mean?” Fiona asked. She was beginning to steady herself but her inner ear was spinning sickeningly and she thought she might vomit again at any moment.
