by Will Bly
Irulen turned the knob and pulled the door open. A whoosh of tavern air blew by his ears and into the night. You are free now, he thought to the air. He shook his head at his own oddity and stepped into the place.
To his surprise, he found Quinn, mug in hand as expected, somehow joined by Leofrick. Irulen found it a wonder the scoundrel had a knack for getting himself smack in the middle of things.
Irulen frowned inwardly at Quinn’s appearance. It might not be so apparent to a stranger, but the weight loss sucked in his features. He still had muscle, at least, so he must have found a way to keep active during his captivity. Still, the recognizability of Irulen’s friend seemed to blur in and out as if his eyesight kept adjusting. Quinn sat there as a shade of himself.
All Irulen wanted to do was make things right. Make Quinn, and their friendship, whole again. To forget about how badly he had screwed both of those things up.
“Tell me, Ire, why’re you still pursuing this case while Kay’s all laid up like she is?”
“Part of me just wants something to do while Kay is injured the way she is. Someone kicked off the events that ended her up the way she is. I feel Ithial rushed this scheme, which means he took advantage of the way things were here already. He usually engineers situations, this situation was improvised. Part of me just wants more justice, to hold someone else responsible.”
“Vengeance it is then, the most noble of all motives. I guess we’ll overlook the chain of events you kicked off, shall we? Ha!”
Leofrick coughed and rose. “Perhaps I’ll go fetch the barmaid as these ales look a little slim.”
Irulen threw his right hand around Leofrick’s back as Quinn did the same with his left hand. Together, the two men lowered the scoundrel back into the chair he’d been sitting on.
Quinn leaned in. “No, no that won’t be necessary. We’re all friends here, right?”
Irulen found himself unsure as to why he agreed with Quinn, or whether Quinn in actuality considered him a friend in the least. But it felt better to have a form of mediating presence at the table. To peel away the grossness between him and his old friend. A direct, more intimate approach seemed unpalatable at best. The last thing he wanted to do was to undress himself emotionally in front of the brute with little to buffer the attacks that would come with time. At least now he had Leofrick to cushion the blows. The scoundrel seemed to soak away some of the anxiety as if it had been a burden placed upon his shoulders to hold. His discomfort provided comfort.
◆◆◆
The door swung open, and Farah fell through it. “Kay!” She pushed between labored breaths. “Kay. Kay.”
Irulen shared a split moment of concern with Quinn and Leofrick before pushing back his chair and rushing past a bent over Farah.
Irulen found the outside dark as death, cursing the moon’s ineptitude as he ran through the marketplace and dove into the village’s many corridors. A sinking pit in his stomach reminded him that he was new to the area and that he may well not be heading in the right direction. But there’s no time. I have to trust my gut.
The fear his dedication might lead him in the wrong direction pulled him down, made him slower if not uncertain. But a familiar place appeared to him—or at least an outline against the darkness of what might’ve been the dwelling at the end of the row where they stayed. He reminded himself that the place they stayed sat at an intersection of paths.
He ran until there was nothing but hollowness to his right and left, a path running through. It must be this one here. He pushed open the door to find a couple busy burying the night’s activities with a pair of legs up in the air and groaning that shook the earth. Irulen thought the male might dismount and make things violent, but they didn’t even notice him. He shut the door and ran again into the darkness. Despair skittered around him like ticks waiting for a bite of human blood. This one, it has to be this one. He pushed in.
Merek paced erratically beside Kay, his hands running through his hair constantly. Irulen grabbed the youth and kicked him outside, then Irulen returned to Kay’s side. Her breaths were faint and distant, she felt cold to the touch, her mouth hung open and saliva dripped over the edges. I’m losing her. She’s dead.
“You can,” the voice came from behind him. Irulen spun to find Merek in a rare moment of clarity. “You can fix it.” And he left.
Irulen looked up and squinted as if answers were somewhere there to be found. Is this my great purpose? Save one woman who isn’t even the best of people? Is this worth ending my magic for? I could just help her on her way… make her comfortable…
He leaned over and took Kay into his arms like he did when they were lovers. Let me in. We need to talk.
Chapter 24: Oceanic Depths
Irulen emerged in fresh reality. Everything uncertain, all things to be determined. Back in the fog, or is this fog anew? Faces floated in circles around his vision. They smiled at him. Then things became still.
“Quinn?”
Quinn looked somehow fuller, happier. “Ire. You really did it this time.”
“What?”
“Whatever it is you do, screw things up and patch them up again. That sort of thing.”
“What did I do now?”
“It’s Kay.”
Irulen sat abruptly, his head tingled and went fuzzy. He felt Quinn’s arms catch him as he fell back down.
“Easy there.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You saved her. She’s alive.”
“You don’t say?”
“I do say. She’s out and about. We did some legwork for you, even. Gathered the things you requested before you left Leofrick and me with our drinks at the tavern.”
“That’s great. But I don’t remember…”
“We’ll show you later. But you have to rest, now.”
Something crept along Irulen’s spine. “Quinn?”
“Yes?”
“I… I don’t feel my power, anymore.”
“Oh? Oh. Don’t worry about that now. You’re tired. Be tired. Get rest.”
Irulen blinked, and Quinn was gone, the tent empty. He felt empty. Did I… did I fall asleep? Did I wake? Am I awake now? He pushed himself up, more slowly now.
Something startled him.
Merek bounded over and slapped Irulen’s back, causing him to wince in discomfort.
“Easy, easy,” he said to Merek as he removed the cloudwalker’s hand. “I’m all right. Thank you.” Still, Irulen remained afraid Merek might again pound him on the back. “You know what, Merek? Could you go get Kay for me, would you mind?”
Merek smiled and left.
A moment later, Kay walked in. Irulen couldn’t believe how agile she looked, how completely unaffected she was by it all. He wondered again if he might still be asleep. She sat at the edge of the bed and crossed her legs. She didn’t do that often. Something formal hung about the air.
The silence pulled at him. “You look good.”
“You look like shit,” she said through a stone face, her gaze holding him tense and firm.
“But you are feeling good, then?”
“Fine. Feeling great.”
“Why so stiff then?”
He didn’t think she could stiffen more, but she did. “I’m, a bit confused, perhaps. And concerned.”
“What about?”
“Do you remember?”
Irulen shook his head at her. Answering a question with a question. “Remember what?”
“When you came to me. Inside.”
“What do you mean ‘inside’?”
“When I was… leaving. You came to me. Met me in the in-between space. You saved me.”
“Oh.” Irulen thought in silence. Memories eluded him. “Nope.”
“It was like I swam under an ocean, but I could breathe. I felt comfortable and sleepy. Like what it must be to drown. But safe…” Her voice trailed. “Like going somewhere safe… a deep ocean of safety.”
“Sounds almost… peaceful.”
K
ay laughed as her gaze fell. “You might say I was a little disappointed that you came for me, in a way.” Her eyes lifted to him again. “But something that like doesn’t happen without cost, does it? Your magic…”
Irulen’s pulse quickened. He felt as if he misplaced his sack of coin, unsure and more than a little desperate. “I… I don’t know about that. I used a lot. It took a lot…” And I can’t find any of it.
“I felt you around me as you pulled me back. It reminded me of... other times...” Her eyes searched his. He felt afraid of what she might find.
“Don’t get all dreamy-eyed. I just made a choice. People always make em, and they don’t always think when they do.” It didn’t come out right. “I don’t mean it that way. Of course I’d choose you over my magic anytime. I’m just saying I don’t deserve any sort of honor for what I did. It just happened.”
Kay shifted herself along the bed and came closer. She looked to the door as if it looked at her, and then leaned over him. He felt her hand as it touched his cheek, and her lips soon followed. He didn’t think she was capable of such tenderness. Even at their most intimate moments he had never seen this before. She pulled back and smiled. “I am grateful,” she said, then stood and walked outside.
Irulen closed his eyes and searched again for his magic. He looked through the palpable darkness and emptiness. He felt what he figured to be splintered remnants of his power. Little pieces of dust suspended in his mind like the aftermath of a volcanic eruption. Maybe there’s something left there, after all, but it isn’t much and will take some time to put together.
He thought about laying back down but found no rest to be had. He cracked his neck and rubbed his face. He stretched his leg. Once satisfied that his knees pivoted well and his toes curled fine, he slowly planted his feet and rose. The world seemed to clear up a bit this time, and he pushed his way outside. The fresh air embraced him, and he wondered if perhaps some remnants of his magic were caught up in it. Lingering about in a fragmented, homeless way, waiting to cling to him as he passed by. Fat chance, more like it’s all gone forever, and what might still be there is nothing more than a phantasmic feeling. Like grabbing at something with a lost arm.
The sun glared with the freshness of a new day. He found Farah sitting nearby on a rudimentary bench, chafed and splintered on the edges.
“Careful,” he cautioned. “That bench looks as if it might bite you.”
“How gallant of you.” Her voice sounded vacant, her eyes fixed on the ground.
“Yes, my sweet, rejoice, for I have returned!”
She offered no response.
Great. She is sure to make me suffer for some reason or another, but it can’t be avoided. He breathed deep and offered her entry. “What’s on your mind?”
“There’s much on my mind. About you, about me. About her…”
“Who?”
Farah daggered his eyes with hers. Her scowl ripped his brain. Her look spoke to him in silence: You damn well know who, and if you make me answer that silly question I’ll tear your balls off and bounce them into the river.
“Kay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You worried over her?” He shifted, fearing a loaded question.
“No. Well, yes. But no, that is not what I’m thinking about.”
“What, then?”
She looked at him, but her eyes did not meet his. “I was thinking about the time along the trail—as we left Northforge...”
Oh no, here we go again…
“When we overlooked the battlefield. There must’ve been thousands of men facing off, ready to kill each other.”
Ugh. This is the worst “I told you so” I’ve every received.
“And you didn’t do anything, then. A history-changing moment, for certain with many lives on the line. And you walked away… saved your magic for a higher purpose.”
Irulen waited for her to finish, thoughts weighing heavy on the mind.
“But you are weak, now, aren’t you? One doesn’t just breathe life into the dying and not pay. So your remaining power, paid for in the blood of battle, you used to bring her back.”
Irulen stepped closer, decided she wouldn’t hurt him should he sit. He hazarded a chance at her wrath and made his move. She didn’t respond violently, but she didn’t make room for him either. He felt a splinter stick in his ass. He felt tired, though, too tired to care. “Yes, I did.”
“Is there magic left?”
“No, not much.”
“Was it worth it?” Her eyes leveled with his now.
He scratched at a scalp itch as he responded. “That’s kind of a rough thing to ask, don’t you think? Why not, ‘Are you glad that you are alive?’ Or, ‘How’s it feel to have saved someone from the depths of death?’”
“I’m glad she is alive, of course. But you are the one who always saved his magic for some greater purpose.”
“And you are the one that said I wasn’t special, that the magic didn’t matter… that I should spend it when I can, make what difference I can, and be done with it. So let’s just say that you were right... and be done with it. You were right, and I was wrong.”
“Is it so simple, though? There’s Ithial…”
“Who is dead.”
“We don’t know that.”
“There’s no way he could’ve lived.”
“There’s no way Kay should’ve lived. No one’s found him.”
“We haven’t really had time to look…”
She held his gaze.
He shook his head but couldn’t bring himself to look away. “Perhaps you are right. Let’s assume he’s still alive, at least until he’s proven dead as roof thatching.”
“He has a plan for you. This all wouldn’t end with Quinn and Kay. This ends with you and him.”
“How can you be so sure? You talking to spirits or something?” Irulen remembered the voices he had heard in the catacombs beneath Northforge. He found it hard to be as skeptical as he sounded.
“I decided to come with you. I sacrificed my other life. Jorin… What happened in Warwick… You might’ve been laden with magic, but I’m laden with those experiences. And I deal with them better than you do.”
“That’s not fai—”
“But I didn’t experience all of this for nothing. It’s still coming, the reckoning. And now that you used your magic on her, there’s no protection for the rest of us. There’s no security anymore. We always turn dark corners, I’m used to that, but I always took solace in the light that resides within you. Now, we turn dark corners with no assurances to greet us.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be, but don’t be. There’s little use in it.”
“I’m…” Irulen paused. “Okay, fine. What do you want from me? Aren’t you happy Kay is alive?”
“I am. Of course I am happy. But I guess I’m just a little numb to all the other times you might’ve helped. Those times you might’ve done more. You want to know what I want from you? I want truth… like that night by the fire… like that night during the storm…”
Curves of her body ran along his mind’s eye. “Of course, just ask.”
“Are you all right? Are you going to be all right?”
The simplicity of the question knocked him off balance. He opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue came up empty. So he sat and thought, and thought some more. His head felt fuzzy. In time, he spoke. It came slow but consistently, and more detailed in thought than he could’ve believed. His thoughts. His feelings.
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I had a system, a system that is ruined. I’ve saved my power and waited, and waited, but it’s come to naught. I could’ve helped so many people by this point, but I’ve been too much of a coward to let it go.
“And now it’s killing me—chewing me up so bad that I feel thousands of daggers tearing through my insides. The darkness closes around my eyes, and I know that my magic is turning dark, septic, and is very well beyond repa
ir.
“I can’t help but want to hurt people, for how fair would it be if I helped people now? I’d be hurting the spirits of the dead, the people I’ve abandoned. I’ve hardened and hardened some more, rationalizing this, ignoring that. My magic was meant for something meaningful, and I haven’t carried that burden for nothing, have I?
“Maybe I have, maybe I should have rid myself of it years ago. That would have certainly saved the innocents I’ve pushed into the gears of Ithial’s mechanizations. He’s turning me. I know what he’s doing, and I still can’t stop it. He’s making me him, turning me to the darkness, dragging me to the shade—and I walk with full awareness. Everyone will die, by my hand or his. This won’t end well for anyone. I could spend the rest of my magic now. I can feel it hanging by a frayed string, waiting to be let go. Maybe I can just let myself go—I’ve seen sacrifice before, it’s more noble than any other way I’ll end up.
“I used to not be capable of hurting people, but I’m far beyond that now. It becomes more difficult to not inflict pain the more pain builds inside, pushing outward beneath the skin. I’m ripping open. I’m losing control.” Irulen’s foot bounced his leg up and down in rapid succession.
Farah brought her legs close together and folded her hands over her lap. Her back straightened. “Quite the admission.”
Irulen cleared his throat and waited. And waited. Finally he nudged her silence. “Is that it? No lectures? No insight?”
Farah shrugged.
Irulen shrugged back in anger. “You have to do better than that!”
“Why?”
“Because I’m all used up. I have nothing left.”
“So you want me to give what you lack?”
“I think—I think all I need is to be told things will be okay.”
She grabbed his hand up in hers. “Things will be okay. I may not feel it at the moment, but I’ve dedicated myself to the future. Whether things are okay for us now, later, or ever, they will be okay in the end. Our parts will be played and our story will come and go, but the world will achieve serenity in the end. I made my pledge long ago.”
“So you are saying our happiness, or lack thereof, plays a part in the happiness of the future?”
