Belvedor and the Four Corners (Belvedor Saga Book 1) (9 page)

“Bring her here! Hold on, dear!” shouted another muffled voice.

Cyn?
She tried to form the name on her lips, but her voice never came out.

The rain stopped, and a warm light filtered through her bruised eyelids. Faces blurred about and cold hands ran over her skin. Soft, muted voices buzzed around in her ears, bouncing around her jumbled skull.

“Set her down here. Carefully now… gently, please,” said Cyn.

“Can you hear me?” said a man.

“Solomon?” Arianna reached blindly with her one uninjured arm.

“I’m right here,” he said, sweeping her hair from her face. “Cyn, get over here! I’m losing her. Liam, get Noah out of here! We can handle this.”

The voices whirled and blurred around in her clouded mind. She struggled in desperation to hold on to some clarity, but she couldn’t find the strength.

“Solomon.” 

“Yes? I’m right here, Ara.” She felt his hand grasp hers.

“This feels like a dream. You were right…” Her voice trailed off, back into the blackness of her mind.

Her eyelids closed, too burdened to shed even a single tear, and the voices disappeared as her hand dropped from his. Outside the storm grew wild and ferocious as the rain continued to pour. 

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Of course I’m telling the truth, Talis! Now you must come quickly. There isn’t much time,” pleaded Solomon. His dark skin blended into the night, and his eyes glowed intense with every word.

“Master Bell, this is neither the time nor place for such talk,” said a man, scanning for onlookers from the entrance of his home. “Please… it’s best you go now,” he whispered and closed the door.

Solomon pounded his fists on the wood, demanding to be let in, but the man behind the door would not oblige. He began to pace, back and forth, clutching at his face under the rain turned snow. With every passing moment, the anger of a great warrior began to build up inside of him.

He paused in front of the door, contemplating his options for only an instant, and then a flicker of fire passed through his heart. In one swift movement he lifted his foot and, with all of his strength, slammed it onto the wood panel of the door. Without hesitation, the door crashed open in a cloud of splintered wood, tearing a gash where the lock used to latch.

The man jumped up from his chair. “Have you lost your mind!?”

Solomon burst into the house, now standing in a large common area. A few chairs were seated around a fire, and Solomon saw more doors at the far wall.

“Talis Churry… what has become of you, my friend?” Solomon lost his fury in one glance at the man’s terrified face. He pushed the door closed and lowered himself into a plush chair across from him. The room felt comforting with only the fire for light, the walls a soft golden brown, and the subtle scent of jasmine lingering in the air.

For a moment, Talis only stared, unmoving. Then, he seated himself near the fire pit where flames licked at the wood of soon-to-be ashes. Talis, a short man with wavy, silvery hair down to his shoulders, kept his eyes locked on the fire. It illuminated his sunken face and the shadows under his eyes.

His pink skin wrinkled, but his eyes suggested a much younger age, the same cerulean blue as the lining of his white robes. The long velvet dragged on the floor, causing the fabric to turn brown at the bottom.

“That was long ago, Solomon,” he said after a while. “That past is behind us now. What brings you here? How did you come to find me?” Talis stroked his thick, graying mustache.

“Fate has led me to your doorstep tonight, old friend. I wasn’t searching for you, yet here I am. Your door happened to be the first healer I called upon. I’m in as much disbelief as you!”

“Please, spare—”

“I will not. How can you deny the path we’ve been set on tonight?” Solomon leaned forward in the chair.

Talis pushed himself onto his feet, still facing the fire pit with his hands pulled behind his back. “Fate has not been kind to me, so I’ve no faith in her.” He spoke in a whisper, pausing to warm his small hands near the flames. They looked blackened and scarred but steady nonetheless. Solomon stood and came to place his hands on Talis’ shoulders.

“And to I?” Solomon lowered his head. “She has shown little mercy, but now I can see the light. Talis, please—”

“No.”

“You must listen! I’m in dire need of your help,” said Solomon, his face contorting as he slumped back down in the chair.

Talis waved his hand for silence, and Solomon quieted, his face turning sullen. “This girl you speak of… your apprentice. Do you honestly believe she’s worth all the trouble?” he asked. His eyes narrowed, searching for a hint of folly in Solomon’s expression.

“I do,” said Solomon. His lips set in a firm line.

“And that is to say that the rumors speak a truth. This we don’t know for certain, Solomon,” he said, avoiding his burning scrutiny. He relaxed back in his chair and took a sip of the steaming tea he had brewed earlier.

“It’s no rumor, and we’re living proof of that! There are people organizing, people like us who are just waiting for the right time. You know this.” Solomon’s voice turned cold as he clutched to the arms of the chair. Rising from his seat, he took a step towards him with fists clenched at his sides.

Talis looked up from his tea, shaking his head. “And how can you be so sure there’ll ever be a right time?” said Talis, not intimidated in the least.

“That story is much too long for a time like this.” Solomon bent down to kneel at Talis’ feet, taking his hand in his. He demanded his full attention with a look of agony stitched on his face. “Brother, please. Show me your courage. We need all the help we can get, and she’s… special. I can feel it in my heart. You must trust me on this.”

Talis lowered his head, taking another drink. 

“There’s still hope out there,” continued Solomon. “She’s reminded me of that.

“Yet you tell me she lies on her deathbed? Humph,” Talis pursed his lips. 

“There’s still good in this world, and I made a vow to protect what little is left. As did you! You must remember what we fight for,” said Solomon. His eyes softened a little as he remembered something distant.

“Fight for?” Talis relinquished Solomon’s hold and shouted, “I fight for nothing now. That past is behind me! I won’t help you.” He tore his eyes away only to get lost again in the dying fire, the flames reflecting in his glassy stare.

“Then you’re a coward,” replied Solomon as he rose to his feet. He looked like a giant hovering over a child. “I know your soul is calling for retribution just like mine. Turning your face away from the battle can win no war!”

“I’m running from nothing. This is my life now. I’m retired, Solomon.
You’re
retired. We shouldn’t trifle with these things anymore,” he said.

“Look around you,” said Solomon. “Your past is your present, and your present is your past. We’re all slaves in a world where children are taken from their mothers and caged at birth. Don’t you remember the Hell you faced when
you
were considered a number within these mountains?” His voice began a steady rise as he unleashed all of his fury and pain. He added, “You may have earned your rights and your citizenship to the Olleb, but for what? Nothing’s changed. The horrors are just being relived for us by others now. Is this the life you imagined then?”

Talis shook his head. “This life is void of anything worth fighting for. I know we tried our hand at uncovering some good, but we aren’t young anymore. The hand we’ve been dealt is luxurious compared to what others have suffered. It’s time you accept the inevitable and stop chasing old fairytales,” he said with a wave of his hand. 

Contempt took over Solomon’s pained expression, and all of the muscles in his body tensed. “No, Talis, it is time
you
accepted the inevitable. Olleb-Yelfra struggles, and we cannot turn our backs on her. Not when she has entrusted us with so much power. You’re still strong! Please, look to your soul. Do what is asked of you. Our land has suffered enough,” said Solomon. He grabbed Talis by the shoulders and shook him violently as if to will the sense into him. “Our fate is now.”

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t, I won’t. I wish for no trouble,” he choked. He pushed away Solomon’s hands with weak effort.

Solomon straightened his back. “Well, trouble has found you.”

“Is that a threat?” Talis asked, standing to his feet. His fingers twitched by his side. Solomon met his stance. He stood much taller, but something fierce shone in Talis’ eyes evening them out.

“I mean,
Talis
, you owe me this favor,” said Solomon, his voice thick with fervor.

In an instant, he unsheathed the double-swords at his back. The silver of the blades curved, and an inscription glimmered in the light of the fire. He brought the serrated metal a pinch away from Talis’ neck, holding the jeweled hilt with two steady hands, unmovable.

“What say you now?” asked Solomon through clenched teeth.

“I say you’re a fool to come here this night,” said Talis. He never even flinched.

Solomon’s body clenched as Talis’ fingers wrapped around his wrists. The skin-on-skin contact somehow sent a powerful surge of pain through his muscles. His limbs writhed, and his swords crashed to the ground. He fell to the floor alongside them.

Talis stood over him, his eyes narrowed as he slid his fingers across his skin once more. Solomon convulsed again, howling in agony from his touch.

“I knew you were still in there,” said Solomon through the pain. His teeth clenched and his body contorted.

Talis gave a deep exhalation and released as Solomon’s body relaxed. He pushed himself to a seated position on the floor, rubbing his sore body.

“I won’t deny that I owe you my life,” said Talis. “If this is the favor you ask of me, then I’ll help you to repay my debt. But this is the last time, agreed?” said Talis, his expression defeated and grave. Solomon smiled, knowing Talis still wielded his powers.

“Fair is fair,” said Solomon as Talis pulled him to his feet. He sheathed his swords and made to leave. “We must hurry. If we’re too late…” His face fell, and he threw open the door.

Talis donned his shoes and followed suit. They disappeared into the black night. As the midnight snow engulfed them in a white blanket, a young girl peered out of a circular glass-paned window from where the two men just left. Her sapphire eyes searched for their footsteps, but the snow concealed them in the night.

The men dashed through the blizzard at a quickened pace. As they twisted up the road, they passed a wide, fenced-in space. A large sign hung on a stake. Solomon squinted, trying to read the sign through the snowfall.

He saw
‘
The Field
’
carved in white letters. Tall, barren trees sprouted up under the shade of the mountain. Solomon recognized it and pushed faster, the storm helping to muffle their footsteps. Talis, although a bit older than Solomon, never fell behind.

“This way!” shouted Solomon over the howling wind. They headed for the mouth of the Vanishing Tunnels where a guard slumped in the snow. He looked as if he slept if not for the trickle of blood that crept from the side of his head and dyed the white floor red.

“Trying to be discreet?” said Talis with a stern look.

Solomon just kept running.

They entered the dark tunnels, a haven from the blistering wind, but the cold still found them there. Solomon bent down and retrieved a small lantern he had stowed. He lit it with a match from his pocket, the fire thrashing at the oil and burning bright in the darkness of the caves.

“Here, take the map and navigate us back to my side of town,” he said, shoving a piece of crumpled paper towards Talis.

He snatched it out of his hands and unfolded it, holding it near his face in the dim light. “We’re here,” said Talis, pointing a wrinkled finger at the map.

Solomon peered over his shoulder with the lantern. Many lines signified the tunnels and Talis gestured to one labeled the Healer’s District. “We should go straight for most of the way. We’ll take the second path on the right. That should lead us to your district,” he said, rolling the map up and placing it within his robes.

“Alright, let’s be on our way then. We’ve wasted too much time already,” said Solomon as he started back at a running pace.

Talis followed at his heels for the rest of the way, their heavy footsteps echoing loud in the silence of the tunnels. It took them twenty minutes to run the paths that led towards the Warrior’s District. The light of the lantern bounced off the walls the entire journey, creating monstrous shadows on the stone and giving the appearance of unwelcome company.

When they finally saw a small glint of light up ahead, they knew the entrance loomed near. They willed their legs even faster with the hope of leaving that wretched tunnel behind.

Solomon came to an abrupt halt at the mouth of the underpass, throwing his arm out for Talis to stop. They could hear the chattering of two guards only a few feet away.

“Of course she’s done for,” said one of the guards in a tired voice. “How can anyone survive that kind of blow?”