Authors: John H. Carroll
Tags: #knight, #dralin carnival pelya, #ryallon swords and sorcery, #tathan of the shadows
Pelya was the key. She rescued the slaves
and a shining knight looked up to her. Everyone loved Pelya unless
they were evil or wanted to hurt bunnies.
“Bunnies! I have to get Shade.” Ebudae said
the words aloud as she got out of bed. Her knees buckled from
weakness and she had to steady herself. Dizziness and spots swam in
front of her eyes as she regained her balance.
She chose one of her more simple dresses
with a little lace on it. It was purple and had numerous runes to
keep her safe. What her grandmother didn’t know was that Ebudae had
been outside the manor a few times on her own. She never went far,
but the need to escape was strong, so she’d sneak through dark
alleys and try to get close to danger without being noticed.
Once she was dressed, she put the knife on
her belt and went to her workroom, locking the door behind her.
Ebudae grabbed pouches and wrapped a blood-red, hooded cloak around
her shoulders. She liked the color of it and ran her hand along the
soft cloth.
Ebudae pushed a series of stones in the wall
to make a section slide into the floor. She grabbed a lantern and
headed to some stairs down. A series of passages led her to the
back wall of the estate where she peeked out to see if anyone was
in the alley behind. When it was clear, she opened another secret
door and stepped outside, leaving the lantern behind.
The night was cooler than the hot days that
had been suffocating the city. Piohray and Siahray were partially
full in the sky. Smog made their light seem sickly. It combined
with the illumination of streetlights nearby to create creepy
shadows in the alley. A sense of being watched tickled the back of
her neck, but no one appeared.
She took one step to the left to go to the
temple before changing her mind and heading the other direction.
Ebudae wanted to talk to Juggles and the others to see why they had
left them alone to rescue the slaves under the warehouse. It was
another of the things that was bothering her.
People in general were complicated. Magic
was easy and fun. Making dresses and poking the needles into her
fingers was enjoyable. Living in her suite and taking baths was
nice. Ebudae didn’t like people though.
It brought her back the thought of Pelya as
she made her way down the street, keeping to the side in the hopes
she wouldn’t be noticed. Pelya acted with courage in everything she
did. She also protected Ebudae, always standing in front when
danger was near.
Pelya didn’t hesitate to break into the
warehouse because she wanted to save the brother of a friend.
Ebudae hadn’t hesitated because she wanted the thrill. She didn’t
care about Aphry or saving Jovias, but it had been exciting. Pelya
had rescued the slaves while Ebudae had rescued an emo bunny. The
bunny seemed more lovable than half-starved people in cages.
Pelya also cried when people died. Ebudae
knew that her friend had never killed anyone and didn’t want to.
The warrior girl was afraid that her father would be disappointed
in her and that she wouldn’t be allowed to join the City Guard when
she turned eighteen because of it.
Ebudae concluded that Pelya was not just
good, she was epically good like in bard’s tales. She would need
all the help she could get and Ebudae vowed that she would always
do anything to help Pelya. But it was going to be in the way
she
saw fit, even if that meant killing anyone who
threatened her friend.
She kept an alert eye on her surroundings.
The feeling of being watched persisted. If possible, she wanted to
avoid using magic after having driven her body so hard. It occurred
to her that she still had no idea how much time had passed since
she had come home.
***
The after-midnight crowds at Carnival
brushed against her and she drew her cloak as tightly as possible,
making her way to Aphry’s troupe tent. A few tugs on the cloak
indicated that pickpockets were trying to grab one of her pouches,
but she pushed on faster to get away from them.
A man seized her arm and reached for one of
the pouches. When his hand touched the pouch, the runes sewn into
it flashed and burned his hand. He screamed and tried to shake off
the green flames.
Ebudae reached out with a hand and cast a
small spell. Her hair flicked about her face as tiny lightning
bolts sprang from her fingers. It wasn’t a lot of power, but the
jolt knocked the man back into the crowd. People stepped back and
looked at the stunned pickpocket lying on the street. One helpful
bystander stomped on his hand to extinguish the flames.
For the first time since entering Carnival,
Ebudae had elbow room. “He tried to pick my pouches. It’s a very
bad idea,” she said in a loud voice to defend her actions. No one
insisted on claiming any wrongdoing, so she continued on her way.
He would live.
A few minutes later, she reached her
destination. The torches on either side of the stage were unlit.
Aphry had mentioned that active troupes kept their torches lit
throughout the night to advertise that there would be acts
performed.
Using utmost caution, Ebudae made her way to
the tent opening. It was magically sealed. She examined the runes
and realized there were layers of them. It was an intricate lock
designed to keep out experienced thieves, even those with
magic.
“Now why would you be studying those runes?”
a high-pitched voice asked from her right.
Ebudae turned, ready to cast another of the
lightning spells. A bald-headed City Guardsman stood at the end of
the path between tents.
“Here now,” a different voice said from
behind her. She turned and saw a grey-haired member of the Guard.
“It’s a bad idea to go around casting spells at people, especially
when Guard uniforms protect us from them.”
“Not from
all
spells,” Ebudae
replied. Pelya had told her about the protections that Guard tunics
and armor had in them. They were more formidable than most people
realized. It would take a powerful spell to overcome them.
It occurred to her that she wasn’t willing
to attack the men. Whatever issues she may have, Ebudae didn’t
consider herself a murderer. She released the energy she had
already gathered and stood straight with arms to the side in a
gesture of peace. Watching the Guardsman’s eyes widen as he took a
step back and put a hand on the sword gave her satisfaction.
“That doesn’t make it a good idea to go
around slinging spells at us.” The bald man spoke again. Ebudae put
her back against the other tent so that she could keep an eye on
both of them. They came ahead until they were ten feet away on
either side. The bald one smoothed out his white mustache. “What
are you doing out here all alone, lass?”
“Looking for my friends.” She wasn’t about
to volunteer any information.
“Interesting,” the grey haired man said. He
rested his hands on hips in a casual stance. “Who are you and who
are your friends?”
Ebudae tried to gauge how much trouble she
might be in. The Guardsmen may have arrested Aphry’s troupe for
breaking into the warehouse and could arrest her next. They could
also be corrupt. She didn’t share Pelya’s faith in all things
related to the Guard.
“She is Lady Ebudae Pallon, also known as
Pelya’s best friend,” a third Guardsman said, coming up behind the
bald one.
“Oh, here now. You’re a friend of ours then,
Milady,” The grey-haired man said. “I’m Florsy, the bald one is
Grinkin and our quiet friend is Clutz. We’re here on behalf of
Pelya.”
“Oh? Is she alright?” Ebudae remembered how
tired her friend had been. “Did she find her father?”
Florsy nodded. “Yeah. He broke some ribs
falling down stairs or so he says. No one knows what really
happened.”
“He likes to be mysterious,” Ebudae said
with a wry grin. It drew laughs from the Guardsmen. They truly were
friends of Pelya, so she relaxed. “What about the troupe?” She
gestured at the sealed tent.
“It’s not good,” Clutz said. He was calm in
manner and spoke like a breeze rustling the trees. “Aphry, the
leader of the group, and her husband were taken by Blavoci’s men.
I’m betting that the tent and stage were signed over, but the
administration building is closed til tomorrow.”
“What about Juggles?” He . . . juggles,”
Ebudae said lamely.
They exchanged glances. Florsy came over and
patted her on the shoulder. “Word is, he made a deal to save
himself, but we don’t know what it is. A couple of reliable
contacts gave us the information.”
Ebudae frowned.
“Did you know the muscle man too?” Grinkin
asked.
“Lizor,” Ebudae said with a nod. “Pelya
liked him. He was the first one we met when he offered us shade
because it was so hot.”
“I’m afraid he was murdered. They found his
body . . . well, I’ll spare you the details.” Grinkin rubbed his
head and closed his eyes.
Ebudae felt tears sting hers. She hadn’t
cared much for Lizor, but didn’t want anything bad to happen to
him.
“I’ll see you home, Milady,” Florsy said.
“When we know more, we’ll let Pelya know. I’ll stop by and give you
the information too, if you like.”
“No thank you.” Ebudae shook her head. “I
have other things I need to take care of and Pelya will tell me
what you learn.”
“Here now,” Clutz said, his voice becoming
hard. “I don’t care who you are, Blavoci is a dangerous man and we
won’t let you go after him on your own.”
“No, no,” Ebudae replied. “I’m not stupid. I
do
have other things to do. I don’t care about him.” Even a
powerful merchant wouldn’t mess with Lady Pallon’s granddaughter
and Ebudae didn’t blame them. Her grandmother was scary.
“Well I should escort you,” Florsy
insisted.
“No.” Ebudae was firm. She did not want an
escort. He would probably want to talk to her and that would drive
her insane.
There was a silent pause before he stepped
aside with a bow. “Milady.”
“Thank you. Please keep Pelya safe. I think
she’s more important than any of us know.” Ebudae didn’t know why
she told them that.
When they slammed their fists to their chest
in unison, it caused her to jump. “With our lives, Milady,” Grinkin
said. Ebudae was suddenly thankful that she was on Pelya’s
side.
The Mosh district wasn’t as busy as
Carnival, but people filled the brightly lit main streets. To her
surprise, Ebudae saw Juggles from across the street. He was talking
to a pretty acrobat who was vapidly giggling at his every word.
Ebudae froze for a minute, ignoring the
glares of people who had to make their way around her. If Juggles
had truly endangered the troupe, or worse, her and Pelya, then she
had a score to settle.
Juggles didn’t see her cross the street and
come up behind him, but the acrobat did and scowled as though
warning Ebudae off from her man.
“Hello, Juggles,” Ebudae said. He jumped and
dropped one of the balls he was juggling in his left hand. When he
turned, Ebudae asked him outright, “Who have you told what to?”
“You need to leave, little girl,” the
acrobat challenged. She put a hand on a knife hilt on her belt.
Pelya had taught Ebudae about intimidating
people. Instead of making a sword hiss, Ebudae had little tricks
that took almost no energy. She whispered a few words and made
gestures. The effects created were a blowing of her hair as though
she was casting a powerful spell. A glimmering effect surrounded
her body and her eyes turned solid black.
It was enough for the acrobat to turn and
run away at full speed. Juggles dropped the rest of his balls and
backed a step away. Ebudae held up a hand, and in an eerie,
magically-enhanced voice said, “Stay. You will answer my
questions.”
“Y . . . yes. Anything you want.” Juggles
gulped and held onto the lamppost he had backed into.
Ebudae released the effect. “What did you
tell them?” She didn’t know if he had told anyone anything or if it
was just rumor, but she had the upper hand and bluffed in order to
press the advantage. The feeling of being watched tickled the back
of her neck yet again. She ignored it so as not to lose his
attention.
“It’s not safe to talk here,” Juggles said,
looking around nervously.
“I’m not willing to be led into a trap,”
Ebudae warned.
“Blavoci’s men might be following me. If
they find you, things could get bad. I know a place they won’t find
us.” He continued looking around, refusing to make eye contact.
“Fine then, but I’ll kill you first if this
is a trap,” Ebudae snarled.
The blood drained from his face and his
hands began shaking. So nervous was he, that he forgot his juggling
balls on the ground where they had fallen. Ebudae followed
carefully, keeping an eye on their surroundings while making
certain he didn’t do anything tricky.
The feeling of being watched kept tickling
the back of her neck. It went away for a few seconds when she
rubbed it, but came back. It was setting her even further on edge.
Juggles turned down a side street and then another. When he turned
into a small alley, she stopped.
He turned. “It’s not an ambush. There’s a
neat courtyard ahead that few people ever go to. I promise it’s
safe.”
She shouldn’t cast magic, but that was a
secondary consideration to staying alive. Ebudae didn’t trust him
at all. With a gesture and a word, she protected her mind. The
feeling of supernatural wind ruffling her hair felt wonderful.
Next, she cast a small ward against magical spells. It wasn’t her
favorite, but took little energy. Lastly, she cast a spell that
hardened her skin without hindering movement, protecting her better
than any chain shirt.
The dragon mark heated her back again as she
took a slow breath. Juggles was backing fearfully away from her, a
hand out to touch the dirty stone building next to him as if for
moral support. Ebudae lifted her chin and moved forward. “Pray for
your sake that you’re not lying to me.” After the words came out of
her mouth, she thought it sounded lame, but at that point, anything
she said would probably frighten him.