by Tim Paulson
They were interrupted by the sound of fluttering as a sparrow flew into the room from a hole in the corner and began flying in circles around Aaron's head.
“You've got to be joking! I swear I just left the man's study!” Aaron said, swatting halfheartedly at the bird. As interesting as the veil sparrow had been to him at first, it was a relic of the ancients after all and one of the rarer ones, father had been using the thing constantly to summon Aaron at all hours. Giselle had watched him grow to despise it and with good reason.
“Can't you ignore it? It's just father. It can wait a few minutes, I'm sure,” Giselle said.
She very much wanted to hear more. The idea of a trip to either of those cities, endless shops bursting with colorful gowns, was beyond alluring. The southern countries hadn't been nearly as influenced by the puritan fondness for austere attire in black and white and thank goodness for that!
“I can't ignore it. How could I possibly discuss the balls we could attend in Pallus with little wings flapping in my face?”
Giselle's lips parted. “Balls? But you so loathe social gatherings! Are you sure?”
Aaron raised a finger and an eyebrow. “Well I suppose I could feed the sparrow and read the message later.”
“Good thinking! Are you serious about balls or are you just toying with me? Have we been invited? By whom?”
Aaron sauntered over to his desk, flipped open a powder box and took a pinch of purple veil powder from within. He then placed the powder on the surface of the desk, making a pile of it.
“Duty and friendship,” he said as he tapped a single spot next to the pile of powder. The sparrow obeyed. It plummeted from the air, dropping a single piece of rolled parchment beside it before pecking at the powder like a starved chicken.
“Don't read it!” Giselle said from the bed.
He nodded, returning to her. Just as his mouth opened to speak, a frantic rapping began at the door.
Giselle groaned. “What now?!”
Aaron shrugged and strode to the door, releasing the bolt. “What?”
Celia pushed her way inside. She was covered head to toe in spatters of red and held a long dagger in her right hand. It too looked like it had been dipped in red wax like the candles on holy ascension day.
“Are you all right? Is that blood?” asked Giselle as she pulled her robe down from its carved wooden hook.
“I'm fine.” Celia said.
“You're covered in what looks like blood Celia!” Aaron said.
“Oh, this isn't my blood,” Celia said.
“Then whose is it?” Aaron said.
Celia's eyes moved to Giselle. “Men came, dressed as guards. They killed the real guards in the South corridor. I'm sure they were on their way here, but I took care of them.”
“What? How in God's name did you take care of them?” Aaron said.
Celia didn't answer his question, instead she rolled her eyes and looked to Giselle.
“She's an assassin trained by the men of the bell. Mother hired her to protect me years ago,” Giselle said.
“No! That's... That's preposterous! The men of the bell? A secret society of assassins started by jesters? That's just a story Giselle! It's made up.”
Giselle shook her head. “Some stories have more truth in them than you might think.”
“We need to go. There will be more of them. They'll be looking for you, both of you,” Celia said as she calmly shook the blood from her knife before wiping it against her skirt.
“What about the sparrow?” Giselle said, fingers tugging at Aaron's shoulder.
“Of course, the message!” Aaron said and rushed toward the bureau where a solid stone sparrow sat motionless next to single tiny piece of rolled paper. He picked up the paper and read it.
“You're right. We need to go. Now.” Aaron's face looked very grave.
“What does it say?” Asked Giselle.
“It says “The son will rise.” Aaron said.
“The son will rise? What does that mean? You don't have any trouble waking in the morning,” Giselle said.
“It means we're to escape the castle as quickly as we can. You and me together. He made me promise.”
“Father's not coming?”
“Of course not... he has to defend the castle. But he can't when we're here and he has to worry about us.”
This seemed logical but something about it felt wrong. “I suppose I understand that but...”
“No buts. Just get dressed. I don't believe we have much time, right Celia?” Aaron said.
Celia was sitting in a chair in the corner cleaning the last of the blood from her dagger. “Probably not. I killed the first group quietly and drug their bodies into a hall closet but I suspect more will show up soon. Perhaps ten minutes?” The girl said. She ran a whetstone over her blade a few times before sliding it into a sheath tucked inside her clothes.
“You stuffed them in a closet?” Giselle said.
Celia merely shrugged.
“That's impressive! You must be stronger than you look.” Giselle said. “So what gown should I wear?”
“What?” Aaron said. “Wear something simple, riding clothes perhaps.”
“My riding clothes aren't very simple,” Giselle frowned.
“Then come with me to the servant's quarters. One of the girls there will surely have something in your size,” Celia said.
Aaron pointed at Celia, “Excellent thinking!”
“But what about Liam!?” Giselle said.
Celia frowned. “I'm not your brother's keeper, I'm yours.”
“We're not leaving without him!” Giselle said.
Aaron was looking out the window, staring into space for a moment.
“Hello? Aaron!?”
“Go to the servants quarters and get dressed for traveling. I'll get Liam. I know where he'll be,” he said.
“Where do we meet after?” Celia asked.
“There is a pantry in the cellar beneath the kitchen do you know it? They keep ale and root vegetables there.”
“Yes!” Celia said, snatching up Giselle's arm “Let's go!”
“Aaron,” Giselle called to him, eyes brimming. “Be careful.”
“I will.” he said.
* * *
Henri cradled his sleeping boy in his arms looking down on the child's face. Adem's brows were knitted together in a fretful expression. His eyes could be seen moving restlessly behind closed eyelids. Henri smoothed his son's hair as best he could given all the sweat and dirt. As terrible as things were, his son's chest still moved with breath, his little heart was still beating, he was alive. For that Henri was grateful, even if the old woman who'd managed it was easily the most terrifying person he'd ever seen.
“Has the boy any toys, perhaps a doll?” the old woman said. She was shaking now, all over, like a fever had taken hold of her.
“Adem makes his own toys of sticks and rocks. He's never asked for a toy and what we had before is gone.” He didn't elaborate, the old woman had already pried into his past more than Henri liked.
“Girl, wake up!” the old woman said.
Mia sat bolt upright as if slapped.
“Come here,” the old woman said.
Mia stood up with some difficulty and limped over to stand before the old woman. Henri hadn't realized how badly the girl had been hurt before but from this angle he could see the torn leg of her pants and the scarred burn where she'd cauterized an ugly wound in her thigh.
“That wound won't do but I can't do anything about it. I'm going to give you someone else to help you on your way. When there is time ask him to deal with the wound. Do you hear me?”
Mia nodded acknowledgment.
“Good. In the meantime I need you to go outside and find a child's doll. It must be shaped like a human. Two arms, two legs, a head. Do you understand?”
Mia nodded again.
Henri glanced to the door wide eyed. The two horrors still stood there, slavering with drool, waiting for someone
to exit the threshold of the shop. How could the girl go out there?
“You can't send her out!” Henri gestured toward the door. “They'll tear her apart!”
The old woman sighed as if Henri was asking her to do something exhausting. “I cannot.”
“What do you mean?” Henri frowned.
“It's not a problem,” Mia said. She drew her sword and walked to the door. She stepped up to the threshold and with two quick slashing thrusts of her glowing blade cleaved their heads in half. The creatures dropped to the ground as Mia wordlessly stepped between their bleeding convulsing corpses. The young woman then looked around and stepped to the left, disappearing from view.
Henri had no words.
“This village has children and where there are children there are always dolls,” the old woman said. “Here, take this.”
She reached into her layered shawls to produce a green stone small enough to fit easily in the center his palm. The stone was smooth and translucent and it had a single symbol on it carved in white. The old woman then pressed the stone to her forehead for a moment, lips moving minimally as if saying a prayer, and placed it on the work table.
“When the girl returns place this inside the doll.”
Before Henri could even open his mouth to ask a question, a sharp pain drilled into his temples as the air around the old woman twisted and flowed like ripples in a shallow pool. It made his mind hurt. Then with a soft popping sound, the old woman's body was simply gone.
“What if she doesn't return?” He asked no one.
Adem murmured in his sleep.
Not a man to stand about wringing his hands, Henri used the time as wisely as he could. He placed the sleeping Adem in his bed and busied himself with preparations for a journey. He'd learned after their last few attempts to settle that it was smart to keep bags ready for a quick escape. He hadn't made much coin here yet but what he had he added to his stash.
He was adding more dried venison to his pack when a creak from the front announced the return of Mia.
“Where is the old woman?” In her left hand she held a child's doll.
Henri shrugged. “Gone.”
“Did she say what to do with this?” Mia said, holding up the doll.
“She said to put that green stone inside the doll. You can touch it. I'm not going near it.” He indicated the translucent stone on the table.
Mia hobbled toward the table. She picked up the green stone and without a word shoved the stone into a hole in the back of the doll.
It was a female doll with long yellow hair made of wool yarn attached to a hand knit body that appeared to have been stuffed with unspun wool. The toy had clearly been made with love but had seen better days. The yellow hair was matted with mud and one of the blue button eyes was missing while the other hung by only a few threads. The tiny wool gown it wore was torn as well and covered with spots of brown muck.
“There. Now what?” Mia said.
“Oh my God! I can't see!” said the doll. It sat up on the table causing both Henri and Mia to jump back. “Am I missing my eyes? Is anyone there?” It had a man's voice, high pitched and shrill, but definitely a man.
“Yes,” Mia said.
“Thank heaven,” the doll said. The mouth didn't move as it talked giving the impression it was a puppet yet no strings hung from above. It sat up by itself, moving and talking. That green stone, it must have some kind of witchery.
“Please tell me, what am I? Is this a doll?”
“Yes,” Mia said again.
“Am I missing my eyes?”
“One is gone, the other... it dangles,” Mia said.
“Well that's a start anyway.” The doll reached up and found the dangling eye which it held up against its face. “Ah! There we are! What is this place, some kind of hovel for impoverished locksmiths?”
“Hey!” Henri said. “This is my home!”
The doll turned its yarn head to regard Henri. “Oh really? I had no idea. Though I suppose I ought to have known the man shaped like a troll belonged here. Tell me do you have a pea brain to match those over sized biceps?”
Henri's flared. “No,” he said.
“Clearly not, given your clear proclivity for stirring conversation. I'm sure we'll get along swimmingly.”
Mia smiled, hiding it halfheartedly with a hand. The doll pointed his eye at her.
“Now here's a comely countenance. Who might you be?” It asked.
“Mia.”
“Mmmm, I see you're... tasked to help as well. Perhaps this won't be quite so odious an assignment after all. Where is the child?”
“Sleeping over there.” Mia pointed toward the back of the forge.
The doll stood up on the table, a feat given the baggy misshapen feet didn't seem capable of supporting it. “We've no time to lose. The barrier here is weakening. Soon it will break and whatever has been warded away will no longer be,” it said as it turned back toward Henri. “Muscle brain. Do you have a nail head perhaps?”
Ignoring the third insult Henri noticed several nail heads around the floor. It was common for them to snap off when he shaped the nails. He snatched up a handful and dropped them on the table. “Here,” he said. “Where are we going?”
“I just need one,” the doll said, ignoring Henri's question as it sauntered over and fished around the pile. “Here we are.”
“Libbi ubla litum,” the doll said.
“Are those witching words?” Henri asked.
“What? No you idiot. I just said 'I hope this works' in my native tongue,” the doll said. “It's a joke. You probably wouldn't understand. The point is, it's been a while. I might be a tad rusty.”
The doll paused for a moment and then pushed the older poorly attached button and the new black chunk of nail onto its face. There was an odd sizzling sound, like you might hear from a slab of meat tossed into a hot iron pan. When the doll took his yarn hands away the eyes had fused to the face, which was now moving. Eyes, eyebrows, nose and mouth, all moved as if it were a regular person's face, only all the elements were made of yarn, button, or black iron.
“Feels right, I can see now. Did it work?”
“I believe so,” Mia said.
“Thank you dear. You really are quite useful, unlike that brute over there.”
Henri frowned.
“Alright!” The doll clapped its hands together. “We really need to get going. Are we all packed and ready for a journey?” It asked as it strolled along the top of the table, yellow hair bobbing with every step.
“We are, at least Adem and I are,” Henri said and stepped forward, looming over the tiny walking talking doll on the table below. “But we're not going anywhere until you tell me where we're going.” He folded his arms.
“Oh yes you are! Suffice it to say somewhere to the East and South of here,” the doll said, gesturing with a single stuffed arm.
Henri look surprised. “That's... that's good. I'd planned to take us that way.”
“And to go there, we'll be going West.”
“What? Why?” Henri said.
“The empire has troops in that direction, it's behind enemy lines,” Mia noted.
The tiny doll with the golden yarn hair threw back its head and laughed uproariously. It was unsettling, frankly. Henri did not like this mud caked little yarn man, not at all.
“Oh pray tell, what are they going to kill us with? Spears? Swords? Bows and Arrows?” The doll crowed in between bouts of knee slapping laughter.
“Look here doll, I'm not walking my son into the hands of imperial soldiers. God knows what they'd do to us,” Henri said.
The only response was more laughter.
Henri shook his head. “Fine then,” he said, dismissing the doll with a wave of his hand. “I'll just take Adem and go East.”
“No you will not,” the doll said, “You will do precisely what I tell you to. My name is Harald of Coctrix, I'm a master sorcerer. You will address me in the future as Harald the great, Harald the s
cholar, or Harald the magnificent.”
“Fat chance of that,” Henri said, moving to don his coat.
“Mia, stop him.”
The raven haired woman stepped forward. “Do as he says.”
Henri glared at the doll wandering around on his work table.
“Don't be a fool doll. She's wonderful with a sword I'm sure but if I choose to leave here with my boy there's not a damned thing this woman can do to stop me...”
Mia raised one of her sharp eyebrows, stepped into his instep and gave him the tiniest push backward before somehow throwing his entire body over her shoulder. It all happened so fast. Before he knew it Hednri lay flat on his back sucking wind.
“Excellent! Well done. Now that the empty headed horseshoe hammering smith has been put in his place we ought to get moving.”
“Farrier,” Henri gasped, clawing himself upright.
“I'm sorry?” asked the doll.
“People... who make horseshoes... are called farriers... it's different.” Henri forced the words out of his mouth between gasps. He lunged at the table sending the doll shrieking away.
He almost had it too but Mia's hand locked on his wrist like a vise and twisted. His arm rotated unnaturally until all three joints locked and the girl suddenly dropped her weight causing him to cartwheel through the air only to land flat on his back. This time she mounted his chest and pulled a knife which she placed against his neck.
“Should I dispatch him?”
“No, he's to care for the child. We need him,” the doll said. “Besides look at him, he's an Ox. He can carry the boy as well as all the supplies we need.”
Mia hung over him, staring into his eyes with an inferno of intensity. Beautiful and terrifying. Then she put away her knife, slipping it back into whatever hidden sheath it had appeared from and stood.
“As you wish,” she said.
When Henri sat up he noticed the doll was on the floor nearby. The creature was staring into space while moving his arms as if turning the pages of an invisible tome.
“This appears to be outer Elaria. Yes, my hunch was correct. I know right where we need to go. Only about a day's travel West on foot... Oh... I wasn't done with that. I don't like this at all. I shouldn't be drained already! What did that idiot do to me?”
