He knelt before Ayva, gripping his blade. Morrowil hovered a breath away from her slender throat. He froze, muscles rigid. Ayva’s eyes fluttered, sleeping. With held breath, he pulled away. His arm tensed and seized. Panicking, he pulled harder. A black tendril slithered beneath his flesh and he watched the muscles in his arm ripple. The sword hovered closer. “No,” he begged in a whisper. Ayva rustled in her sleep, rolling over and the razor-sharp blade skimmed a lock of hair. Gray opened his mouth to wake her and stopped… He couldn’t risk it.
He reached for the nexus. But where it once sat, there was only an abyss of darkness. The nexus was gone. Beneath him, Ayva moved restlessly again. Frantically, he moved deeper into his mind until he saw a glimmer of light. He felt pain but ignored it, racing towards the light, but the closer he got the farther it seemed. Panic rising, he opened his eyes to see tendrils slithering over his limbs, their touch like cold fire, burning. His whole body was nearly consumed in living darkness. He held back a cry of anguish as the darkness reached for his neck. It was too late. He couldn’t touch his power, and even if he could, it was clearly engulfed by the darkness. His mind desperately searched for a way out when something burned against his chest.
The pendant.
With his free hand, Gray gripped it as the darkness slithered into his mouth. He fumbled, straining to twist each piece, frozen fingers working like wooden pegs. Leaf, moon, sun, he flipped the halves into place. The darkness coated his lungs and he choked. The pendant slipped from his hand and darkness slithered over it. He wiped it with his thumb as he gasped for a breath. Stone, water, flesh… His vision faded. The last three pieces clicked into place. Suddenly, a brilliant light burst from the pendant. It shattered the darkness binding his limbs. The inky blackness skittered to the shadowy corners of the room.
He sucked in a desperate breath. Ayva shifted but slumbered, unaware. Slowly he pulled away, rising to his feet with shaky gulps of air. He looked at Ayva and decided. Silhouettes ghosted behind the paper-thin door and he froze. When they passed, he rose and began wrapping his sword. No time to waste. Dawn was only hours away.
Beside his bed upon the floor was a set of new clothes, neatly folded, compliments of Mistress Hitomi. Quickly, he dressed, throwing on the dark green tunic and black pants. He strapped his sword on his back, and pulled on his tattered gray cloak, then grabbed his pack but stopped. If anyone spotted him with his pack it would be a clear sign that he was leaving. He scanned the room when he saw the window.
He cracked it and looked out upon the main street of the city. Chill air hit his sweat-soaked skin sending a shiver down his spine when boots upon stone sounded. He ducked as a file of guards marched past. When their footfalls faded, he carefully lowered his pack onto the slick blue tiles. It slid, landing upon the road with a soft plop. Behind him, Darius sniffed. Gray tensed. At last, he heard the sound of snoring and he turned to see the rogue gripping his dagger in the folds of his worn rags, eyes closed.
Gray looked at his friends one last time. Despite his sorrow, he was glad, for he would never be the cause of their suffering again. In the end, Kail was right and Maris was wrong. He was alone.
He slid the paper door closed, tiptoeing down the hallway. Passing a screen door, he heard Mura’s saw-like snores, but he moved on. The hermit would take care of the others now, he knew, feeling content.
No noise came from the common room, but as he descended the stairs he spotted Mistress Hitomi quietly polishing pewter mugs from behind the throne of her rosewood bar. “Can’t sleep?” she asked scrubbing an already immaculate mug.
The rest of the common room was vacant, seats and tables empty, waiting for the new day. He took particular notice of the corners of the inn, but didn’t see Dorbin, the hulking brute, anywhere. They were alone. “Bad dreams,” he confessed truthfully. Mistress Hitomi took in the bundle upon his back, but without his pack, he could have just been out for a light-night stroll. “I wanted to thank you for the kindness you’ve shown my friends and me. We’ll be out of your hair soon.”
“Ah yes,” she said sadly. “Now that the king is exiling your friends, the refugees from Lakewood.”
“How’d you know?”
“I have many eyes and ears. They keep me informed,” she said mysteriously. “You definitely are a strange bunch. You know, others might be mad at you for getting the whole city in an uproar like this.”
Gray heard the rattle of boots as another file stomped down the street. “And you?” he asked, calmly. “Are you upset?”
“Why should I be?” she shrugged, “You only told that fool Katsu the truth.”
“Well, I can’t take all the credit.”
Mistress Hitomi raised a single brow, “Yes, your companions. I know many people in my line of business, but I’ve never seen friends quite like yours.”
Gray swallowed down the knot in his throat. He tried to change the subject, “I was wondering, was there any food left over from tonight?”
“Some. The roast is all gone, but you can have the vegetables and rice. I’ll get one of my girls to bring it out to you.” Gray thanked her and moments later a girl came out with the food conveniently wrapped inside a small polished wood box tied closed with strings.
He moved towards the door when Hitomi asked, “Where are you headed?” He said nothing and she smiled, returning to polishing her mugs. “Watch yourself. I have a feeling you can handle that sword of yours, but I don’t like bad things happening to good people, and I get a sense of that in the air.”
His sword was bundled in cloth and unrecognizable. “How did you know…”
“That you wield Morrowil?”
He froze.
“I saw the blade’s shimmer through the cloth,” she said. “Those books of mine are not just for decoration.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“Unlikely. Like I said, I am inquisitive, but I’m not so base to flap my tongue, and I doubt any in this city would know what I know. Besides, I’ve a sense whatever you’re involved in is far over my head. Though if I could, a bit of advice?”
He nodded.
“When all seems darkest, trust yourself, for the power we carry is not in some item or sword. It lies within.” She tapped her chest, and then shrugged as if she were telling him the weather. “That’s all.”
“You are a wise woman,” he said quietly. “Mura was right.” With that, he turned and took to the night.
* * *
Gray breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing his pack, and he threw it on, sliding his sword beneath.
The streets were quiet, but he could hear the rhythmic march of more soldiers in the distance, nearing. Standing in the shadows, he wondered who knew about their confined status. It seemed unlikely that every solider knew at this early stage, but he didn’t want to test his theory.
Sticking to the shadows he took the nearby alley. Slipping around the corner, he came to a three-way fork surrounded by moonlit sakura trees, their flowers a dim red in the night. On either side, sat quiet marbled houses. Gray settled on the alley before him, paralleling the main road, which would lead him to the gates of the city. When he heard a voice.
She held his face with twisted lace,
Close enough to kiss and not enough to miss,
But instead of a sweet old pucker,
Ole’ Tompson got a sucker!
Duck and dodge she did, and ran away
With his whole pay, to find some other fodder!
A figure shifted in the shade of one of the trees, and a face appeared. Balder. In one hand, he nibbled on a strange fruit, and in the other he held a ceramic urn.
Gray strode forward, “What are you doing out here?”
“Evening,” Balder said and gestured to the starless sky. “I often sit here to watch the moon. I think the real question is what are you doing out here? And what’s with the pack?”
More boots echoed in the distance and Gray swiveled to the sound.
“I see,” Balder said slowly, “Well then, where are we going?”
He ignored the question. “Are you going to tell the others?”
“Only if you don’t tell me where we’re going.”
“I can’t tell you, Balder.”
“I see. Then let me ask, just how are you planning to get out of here?” The stonemason leaned back against the tree, resting his hands behind his head. “I suppose you could have done whatever it was you did before to cross the impasse, maybe two hours ago, but that time has passed. By now the gates are locked down tighter than a Landerian seal of marble, and crawling like a kicked hornet’s nest with soldiers. They won’t let anyone through, especially not someone held captive by order of his majesty.”
Gray scowled. He knew the stonemason was right, and he also knew he was hiding something as well. “How do I get out, Balder?”
“What makes you think I know a way out?”
“You claim to have created this city from the ground up. Surely you know a way out.”
“Ah, so now you need the grand stonemason?” He said and brushed his coat. “Recognition at last!”
“Balder, I don’t have time for this! The others could find out I’m missing any moment.”
The stonemason tapped his lips in thought. “You’re right. From the little I’ve seen, I’d guess that boy and young woman would follow you to Death’s Gate itself. But what is this plan of yours? Some sort of heroic solitary undertaking?”
“Does it matter?” he asked.
“They will be upset that you left them, you know that.”
“There are things at work you don’t understand, Balder,” he said quietly, “I have to leave.”
The stonemason peered at him curiously. “I see. Those eyes of yours have taken on a different set. It seems you’ve found what you were looking for. So be it, I will help, but first I’ve a request. Would you mind terribly saying my full title?”
Gray gave a deep bow, twirling his hand. “Balder the Magnificent, the most glorious of builders, who would never use a saerian bond, and is the true leader of the prestigious Stonemason’s Guild… would you please help me?”
Balder raised the ceramic urn to his lips and a clear liquid sloshed out. Then he stood and threw the urn against a nearby tree. It shattered noisily. “No more of that tonight, got to keep our wits about us. No time to waste chatting either, let’s get going!” The stonemason set off down the road, opposite where Gray had been planning to go.
“Where are you going?” he called, “That only leads into the city.”
Balder looked over his shoulder. “You were planning on going to your own arrest. Now do you want to know where the secret tunnel is or not? Likely, we’ll both be captured and thrown in some dank cell, but it’s worth a try.” Gray shook his head and ran to catch up, and together they moved through the moonlit alleys. He was torn as he followed Balder. Should I trust the man? He wondered as they avoided a small patrol of guards. A darker voice answered, do we have a choice?
Balder moved towards the main street and Gray caught his shoulder, “There are soldiers swarming out there. If any of them know of the king’s order, I’ll be caught instantly.”
The stonemason winked, “It’s better to hide in the open, than be caught in the dark and thought a thief.”
Reluctantly, Gray released him.
“Into the lion’s den!” Balder said, and with that they moved into the crowded streets.
The Sodden Tunnels
S
TRIDING ALONG THE WHITE-PAVED ROAD,
G
RAY
watched the torrent of soldiers.
To their right, a file of armed men ran closely by them, their boots chiming as one as they went the opposite way. Their silver plate gleamed in the moonlight, the white flame of ice bright upon their breastplates, while swords jostled at their waists. As they passed, Gray inched deeper into his cowl, hiding his face.
Night was fading, and in the sky the clouds turned pale, lit a faint pink from the rising sun. “Will you look after the others?” he asked Balder, as another file of guards on horses passed.
“Look after the others?” Balder harrumphed. “What do you take me for, some kind of wet nurse?”
People all around were beginning to open up their doors to their large villas, or look down from high balconies. Women in nightgowns, bare-chested men and small children watched the commotion fearfully. “If you’re thinking you can come with me, you’re wrong,” he replied.
“Come with you? No thank you. The Shining City is my home. Besides, I have other things I need to see to,” Balder said mysteriously.
“Can you include watching over the others in those plans? Please, as a favor to me.”
The stonemason grumbled incomprehensibly before finally relenting, “I suppose.”
Gray gave a nod of thanks and together they made their way to a large square. In the center of the bazaar was a statue. Standing taller than all other buildings, it depicted a king holding a sword over an opponent with a flame of hair. He shook his head, puzzled by the familiar image when a voice caught his attention.
A round man upon a podium announced in a deep voice, “By order of his majesty, the honorable King Katsu, a new decree is set upon the citizens of the glorious Shining City! Any man able to bear arms must report to Captain Isamu in the barracks of the Noble District. All other citizens are hereby ordered to remain indoors.” With Balder at his side Gray left the square, the man’s proclamation fading.