“Not only for this,” Queen Mer said, “but for everything. We will not take your sons and daughters without recompense.”
The crowd cheered, but Marielle’s heart sank. She’d just watched Queen Mer sell the souls of her people’s children for generations to come.
Queen Mer was supposed to be the savior of the five cities of the Dragonblood plains – the mother of the People of Queen Mer who lived only on the sea. She’d stopped the endless cycle of internal wars – hadn’t she?
What Marielle had just seen didn’t quite line up with what she’d been told.
But she had watched it. She was no longer inhuman floating in time. She could see things now. She could learn. And maybe, just maybe, she could find her way out of the trap the Grandfather had put her in.
7: Stalking Shadows
Tamerlan
It didn’t feel right to have someone else running his body even when they were doing something good. And the looks Etienne kept shooting at him told Tamerlan that he knew exactly what was going on here. But he couldn’t be more condemning of Tamerlan than Tamerlan was of himself. He knew exactly how guilt-soaked he was. He was sodden to the core.
And that made him just a bit angry. Because what was he supposed to have done? What would anyone else have done? Not everyone could be Etienne who could apparently do anything. Tamerlan hadn’t even seen him descend to the lower level or get past the priests. And who knew how he learned to climb like that!
They’d fled the temple, cleaned up in the canal, and then Byron had sped along the canal to the Trade District, broken into a warehouse, and stolen a barge and filled it with grain. Tamerlan hadn’t been surprised when he sped down the river toward the refugee camp.
Neither had Etienne.
“This will wear off soon, and then you’ll be wanted by the authorities,” he said dryly as they drew near to the camp. “And then you’ll have to hide from more than just the shadows that you are sure are stalking you in the night.”
Byron ignored him. He was a man on a mission – as always.
“I know that you’re in there, Tamerlan,” Etienne pressed. “Take control of yourself and stop this before it’s too late.”
As if killing a bunch of priests hadn’t already been bad enough. As if he’d had any other choice. What was he supposed to do? How else was he supposed to capture the Grandfather? It was just too hard to fight with your hands tied behind your back!
“Take courage, good man. Justice will prevail,” Byron said with his lips.
“Uh-huh. And so will the guards when this Legend is done with you. Once this grain is distributed there will be no more hiding. Everyone will have seen your face.”
“Do not speak to me of flouting the authorities,” Byron said. “We saw your note. You foment revolution.”
Etienne’s expression turned stony. “That’s not your affair.”
“Revolution is a dangerous thing,” Byron lectured him. “Better to help the people from behind the scenes and let them decide when to make a move. If you force their hands there may not be the result you wish. I saw a man force a revolution once – he only ended with his head on a pole and it was put there by the people he was trying to help! Better to shame the rulers until the people see for themselves.”
“You’re shaming something, alright,” Etienne muttered.
And his resentment was understandable, but Tamerlan wasn’t the only one with secrets in his heart. And it was hard to feel much compassion for Etienne now. After all, it was Etienne’s plan to take the rest of his vision. One eye hadn’t been enough.
The barge hit the bank, sliding up beside a make-shift dock. And as always when he came here, Tamerlan’s heart lurched.
A group of children ran toward the dock, their elders hanging back not certain what to think of a strange barge. All of them were dressed in worn, dirty clothing and soaked to the bone in the rain. The shelters here were abysmal. Firewood hard to find. If it were this bad in autumn, how much worse would it be in winter?
And it was winter that Tamerlan feared for these people – for the people he had betrayed and damned to this refugee camp.
It was hard not to agree with Bronzebow. What could it hurt to help these people? Even if it meant stealing, wasn’t that a small crime compared to the ones he’d already committed?
See? I will make you a proper thorn in these Landholds’ flesh in no time!
And he wanted that. If it wasn’t for Marielle in the clock, he would stay here with Byron forever righting this great wrong – and they would build an orphanage.
I was raised in an orphanage. I could devote myself to that, yes.
Bronzebow leapt from the prow and hurriedly tied up the barge, lifting up a small child of about five.
“And what is your name, little dragon?”
The child laughed, “Is that food on that boat?”
“It is!” he said with a laugh and the warmth flooding Tamerlan was partly his own and partly Bronzebow’s. “Go get your parents!”
Squeals filled the air as the children ran into the rain and it was only moments later that their tired-eyed elders arrived, drenched and uncertain. It was as if they were afraid to hope. As if hope would sear worse than the scars already lacing their souls.
“Help me get this grain out of the rain!” was all Bronzebow had to say with Tamerlan’s voice, and then they were there, pressing in with silent desperation.
He moved grain for almost an hour, handing sacks in the pouring rain to one desperate almost-hoping face after another. The worn hands of mothers clung to him with thanks on their lips and tears in their eyes. Fathers with new lines etched into their faces threw sacks up onto their shoulders, gathering a child or two up with them as they hurried away. The grain wouldn’t be enough. Not for the whole winter. But it might get them that far, at least.
It was enough for now. For this moment.
Etienne worked beside him until the barge was empty and the two of them were left exhausted in the hull.
“I don’t like seeing my people like this,” Etienne said. “The rulers of Yan make them dependent on that dole. It breaks their spirits. Doles rob a man of his independence, of his self-respect, of his calling.”
“Maybe not for long,” one of the refugees said, leaning in close in the rain. He was a dark-haired man with a limp. He clung to his bag of grain like he was afraid someone might snatch it away. “If you want hope, look for the tent of Variena. She has plans for us.”
Clearly, he thought they were refugees, too.
“Variena?” Etienne asked and his tone was cool. Tamerlan had noticed his tone tended to grow cool when he was considering deeper things than what was on the surface. “The Red Door Woman from Jingen?”
“You’ve heard of her, then.” The man sounded satisfied. “Follow me.”
Etienne stood up quickly and Bronzebow followed. What made him interested in this woman? Tamerlan had never heard of her and they’d been working to help the people in these camps for weeks.
But never like this. This gift has brought the attention of the true power in this refugee camp. We should meet them. We can help them.
In truth, he hadn’t really hurt anything, had he? After all, while stealing grain was wrong, distributing it to the needy made up for that, right?
I agree. Let’s meet this Variena and see how we can help her.
They slid through the descending darkness of the camp, skidding in the thick mud churned up by many feet and relentless rain. Shelters here hardly counted as shelters at all. Some were nothing more than blankets or rugs strung up between poles. Smoke wisped up from some of the better shelters – muted and faint as the fires struggled to stay lit.
Etienne had called them his people, but in truth there were are many here from H’yi as there were from Jingen.
It was to one of the shelters with a fire that the man led them. Ringed with people even in the rain, the shelter was a simple place. Carpets – their colorful designs mud-streaked now –
and an actual tarpaulin formed a crude pavilion packed with bodies. From the edges, it was hard to see the struggling fire but there was a heat in the eyes of the people crowded here. They were mostly men – young men – and they all seemed moments away from violence. Growls of agreement rippled through their ranks as words were muttered between them.
At the center, a woman was talking, her face lit with emotion.
Tamerlan’s heart seized, his breath coming too quickly.
Was that?
It couldn’t be.
Marielle!
But it wasn’t. The woman turned and her eyes met his. Brown eyes – not Marielle’s purple ones. And the lines on her face showed a woman almost twenty years older than Marielle. But still, his breath caught in his throat.
“Her mother,” Etienne whispered in his ear right before he grabbed Tamerlan’s arm and dragged him into the shadows. “Shhh. Say nothing. We can’t be here right now. I have somewhere I need to be, and you need to get back to Jhinn. Now.”
And stop mooning over women twice your age.
That was Lila’s voice. Somewhere in that moment when he’d seen Variena, Byron Bronzebow had left him.
Tamerlan blinked. She’d looked so much like Marielle. It felt like a punch to the gut to see her. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to see if she was like Marielle.
“Tamerlan.” He looked up to see Etienne’s eyes boring into his in the half-light. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t talk to her. She’s more dangerous than you realize. Go and find Jhinn. We need a plan to find the Grandfather again. Maybe this time, you’ll be quicker in using that Eye.”
Tamerlan flinched as he nodded. He’d been too slow. Had it been because he hesitated to lose his vision? By the time they tried again, he’d need to be over that fear just in case.
After a moment, Etienne patted him on the shoulder with a satisfied nod before slipping away into the shadows. The darkness and rain swallowed him up before he’d gone more than a few steps.
Tamerlan breathed in a long breath. He should listen to Etienne and go back to Jhinn. The other man would be waiting. It made sense. And yet ...
He couldn’t stop thinking about Variena. She’d looked so much like her daughter. And everyone was hanging on her words. Perhaps he could listen just for a few moments. He crept through the shadows toward the edge of the crowd, listening, watching.
There she was! Her eyes glowed in the light of the fire and the favor of the crowd.
“You saw how the Landholds treated us! They bought my daughter’s life to save our city. My daughter! And the city was still destroyed by the dragon. What was the point of her sacrifice? What was the point of any of the sacrifices? We’ve been tricked! We’ve all been made fools of by those with money and power. They tread on our heads as their walkways. They make our broken bodies their roads. It’s all been a lie!”
She didn’t know. Her daughter was alive, and she didn’t know!
Tamerlan took a step forward.
Pain split through his head, stopping him mid-stride and the world went dark.
8: Searching Through Time
Marielle
It was as hard to steer herself through the tides of history as it was to steer a maple seed through the course of a river – and yet, she was making progress.
And now she’d stumbled on two Legends together.
It was Maid Chaos – or she thought it was. Her hair was long and gleaming, and her curving figure seemed better suited to dancing than sitting in a dark room drinking with a one-eyed man.
“I didn’t fight this hard to gain power just to see it slip away,” she said and the bitterness in her words seemed far too deep for one so young. “They’re my people – my followers. Mine. Do you hear me?”
She smelled – wrong. Like a dog with rabies. An astringent scent close to Elderflower. And her colors were too bright – like they’d been infected with something. Marielle had seen that before and she knew exactly what it was. In the City Watch, you found people like this sometimes. Occasionally, they were harmless. More often, their crimes turned your stomach worse than rotted meat ever could. Insanity was not a pleasant scent even if the scent itself was not so bad.
“If the dragons stay free, you’ll lose any power you have. They’re picking us off village by village. They are too large – too powerful.” That was King Abelmeyer – she was sure of it. From his single eye to the ruby hanging in the frame of his open-laced shirt, he was all king. Scent trails of Royal blue wrapped around him like a cloak – a testament to his power.
“The price is too high. The people will revolt,” she said, her insanity flaring so that a burst of rainbow colors spun around her. “You’ve planned this to quell us all, haven’t you? Planned it to make yourself King of all the Dragonblood Plains!”
He sighed. “I don’t care about crowns. They’re too heavy for an honest head. And I don’t care about power. It’s nothing but an anvil pulling me deeper and deeper into hell. I just want to save who I can. While I can.”
“Then do it by yourself.”
He opened his palms, showing them to her – empty. “I can’t. I’m just not enough.”
“You stopped that dragon when you gave your eye.”
“But only temporarily. To keep him bound will require more. And I don’t have more to give.”
What did that mean for Tamerlan and his sacrifice outside the clock? She’d seen him give an eye – hadn’t she? Or was that King Abelmeyer? Had she seen that with her own eyes or had she watched Abelmeyer in the flows of history? Sometimes it was hard to keep the two straight. She’d seen too much of what had been and what would be and what might have been. Marielle’s mind felt fuzzy and thick.
“You have another eye,” Maid Chaos said glibly, but it was lightning blue fear that tinged her words, not levity.
Abelmeyer’s growl made Marielle feel her own thrill of fear even though he couldn’t see her. His voice was hard as flint.
“You’ll do this, you trumped-up maid. And you’ll do it when I tell you, or I’ll shake you to pieces. Like a dog with a rat in its mouth.”
The scene started to fade. Marielle tried to claw her way back. What happened next? Did Maid Chaos agree to work with Abelmeyer or did he manage to force her? Why did the histories never talk of this? Marielle was dying to know.
What had he needed from her to seal the dragon up and why was Maid Chaos so nervous about the cost?
But the scene faded, and Marielle was rolling again in the river of time, bobbing just along the surface. She had found no laws to this place – no code. There was nothing to govern what she – or anyone – should or shouldn’t do and that terrified her to the core. She was a servant of justice, not a filmy seed in the wind.
But justice worked best when the judge knew all the facts. And there was more to find in this morass of history – if she could just steer herself to the right things.
Grimacing mentally, she pushed on.
9: Kidnapped
Tamerlan
“He’s waking now.”
The voice sounded familiar, but Tamerlan’s head was pounding so painfully that he might not have been able to pick out his own sister’s voice in the heavy drumming going on inside his skull.
Pull yourself together. You have been captured. This is a time to keep your wits about you.
Deathless Pirate rarely gave advice. Strange that he was speaking to Tamerlan now.
The story is getting more interesting. I want to know who these people are who have our vessel in their hands.
Tamerlan blinked, opening crusty eyes. He was tied tightly to a chair. His hands and wrists hurt from the ropes and his back ached from where he’d been slumped in the hard chair. He was still soaking wet, though the room was dry, and a fire burned in the hearth. That meant he couldn’t have been there for long.
He frowned. It looked like the room of an inn. Who would bring a kidnapped victim here? Anyone could hear his screams.
A face loomed in
to his vision. Ah. He recognized this one. The friend of Marielle. What was his name again? Anglarok.
“Remember me?” Anglarok asked with a smile that wasn’t friendly at all.
“Sure,” Tamerlan allowed. His lips felt thick and his mouth was dry.
“Remember this?” The man bounced the yellow conch shell on his palm – the same one Tamerlan had picked up when he found it in front of the clock. It was Marielle’s.
“Yes.”
“It’s not yours,” the other man said.
“Not yours either,” Tamerlan replied. A drink would be nice right now.
Stop being so surly. Try to charm them!
Maybe that was easy for a pirate. It was hard for an Alchemist’s apprentice. Especially when the people they were referring to had kidnapped him.
Stop fussing about how hurt you are by their actions – that’s what children do. Adults deal with things as they are. Try to learn why they want you. That will give us valuable information.
“We want the girl that you put in the clock. We saw her there,” Anglarok said. “Found her after many days of searching. Alone. Alive in an undamaged clock, while the city around her was nothing but a burned husk. It took us weeks to find witnesses but did you really think we would stop. Did you really think we wouldn’t look everywhere?”
“Why do you want Marielle?” Tamerlan asked. It seemed ridiculous to answer the rest. He hadn’t thought about these people at all. Why would he?
There was the woman behind him – she had short cropped hair except for a long swath at the very front and she wore a furious expression that made him think of a Watch Officer, though she was clearly a foreigner. That must be the woman who Marielle had saved. Liandari. Was that right? He wasn’t sure.
“She is ours. She took the vow. She is part of the Harbingers now and we owe her a debt. And the witnesses told us that a man with short blond hair put here there. A tall man. Broad-shouldered and confident, but with a beardless young face. He had a ruby medallion.” Anglarok pulled the medallion around Tamerlan’s neck out from under his shirt, twisting it until Tamerlan gagged. “This looks like a medallion to me. What do you think, Liandari?”
Bridge of Legends- The Complete Series Page 46
