Raela couldn’t take her eyes off Grevail laying in the road, even as he became a speck in the distance. A rider stopped beside him—the bald man who chased them from town, she thought. She tugged at her chains with the futile hope they would snap and she could jump from the wagon herself.
Tessyn yelled at the stablehand to stop, but he ignored her, and instead shot a wary look over his shoulder at the riders. He did not slow the wagon or put down his blood streaked sword until the mounted men dipped from view. The horses grunted in protest, coated in a thick lather, until finally the stableman pulled on the reins and stopped.
The man stood to look at the road behind them, raising a hand to shield his eyes. Sure they were no longer being followed, he lowered his gaze to the wagon and his eyebrows jumped to his hairline. “What happened to the other one?”
“He fell out!” Raela spat. “He could be dead!”
"Fell out?” The stableman asked, squinting at the broken length of chain Grevail had been tethered to. He issued a sudden curse, sucking air through his teeth, then nodded as if he’d made a decision and met her eyes. “He will be fine, yes.”
“Fine? FINE?” Raela scowled. “You’ve ash in your blood!”
“They were Thavans, did you know? They have an Arbiter with them too. Do you know what that is? Do you?”
“Which is why we have to go back and get him,” Tessyn growled.
The stableman waggled his head and sat, turning his back to them. “Go back? You are insane! Barragos! They will throw us all in the dungeon forever, they surely will. Rumor says a Carreiro is at that camp, and that means at least a hundred Keepers, if not more. I will stay off the highway to avoid them, and run these horses to death if need be, yes.”
“We’ve got to go back!” Raela pleaded, wiping at the wetness welling in her eyes. “He needs our help!”
“I am sorry about your friend…I am, young lady, but to turn this wagon around now would be madness. I will not do it, no.” Arxaro snapped the reins and the horses shambled forward at a walk.
Raela released a groan and looked at her fetters through the tears threatening to pour down her face. I can’t give up, she told herself. Tessyn and Adellus need me. Grevail would find them, or they him.
Adellus watched the stableman with narrowed eyes. “Who are you?”
“Who I am is not important, not important at all,” the stableman said. “But you may call me Arxaro.”
“You have that ashen relic, take it and leave us!” Raela shouted at his back.
“I cannot, young lady. You must come with me,” Arxaro said, a tone of genuine reluctance saturating his voice.
“WHY? Why do we have to go with you!” She stamped her foot on the wagon bed, trying to burn away the tears stinging her eyes with anger.
“These are my orders,” Arxaro said and turned to look at them. “I understand your frustration, I do. Many people are after what you know.”
“We don’t know anything.” Tessyn’s cutting brown eyes challenged Arxaro to prove that they did.
Arxaro spread his hands. “This relic in your possession…it is evidence otherwise.”
Adellus studied Arxaro as if he were a puzzle to be solved. “Are you a Sifter too?”
Arxaro snorted. “Certainly not, no.”
“Where are you taking us?” Raela demanded.
Arxaro brushed gray streaked brown hair from his face and regarded her with bright blue eyes that possessed a glimmer of sympathy. “Tamirra. I tell you this only because I feel badly about your friend, I do.”
“Are you a Breaker?” Adellus asked.
Arxaro narrowed his eyes at Adellus’s continued attempts to discover his identity and turned away, flicking the reins. “I am no Dawnbreaker, no. You’ll find no greater enemy of the Thava than I, but I am no Dawnbreaker.”
“We don’t know anything about the relic or what it is,” Raela told him again. “Let us go!”
Arxaro ignored her.
“Tell us who you are,” Tessyn demanded. “You say you are not a Sifter. If you are not a Sifter then you have no contract and no right to hold us like this.”
“Oh? I have no right? Who will you complain to? The Thava? The watch? You are free to talk with them, yes, if you can find a way out of those chains…though it seems they all prefer you in chains too, they do.”
Raela remained silent after that, though Adellus continued picking away at the mysterious man’s defenses. She tried not to think about what might be happening to Grevail, but it was impossible. She could only push the worst from her imagination, yet no matter how quickly she did, another scenario replaced it. Arbiters were the subject of many tales and books, some of which detailed their misdeeds. They were fond of torture and accusing people of being Cythraul, usually those who could not defend themselves.
Tessyn stared at the countryside, as if she too shared Raela’s thoughts. I should have never let Grevail talk us into that tomb. He had good intentions, but his grandiose schemes always led to more trouble than they were worth. He’d been that way ever since she met him—always dreaming up some plan or another. Raela wished they were all safe inside their shack in Lowtown, even with Aeson, it was better than this.
She always considered it her duty to keep them safe, to corral her friends from their worst ideas, yet everything had gone so horribly wrong since they left for that stupid burial. Grevail was always searching for a way out of Lowtown, and he found it, just not in the way they’d all hoped. She rubbed at the clasps around her wrists that hurt more every day after that Grix fellow put them on. I hope he wasn’t killed by that blow to the head.
Her inner voice scoffed at her naivety. I’ve just watched two men be possibly killed, who knows what has happened to Grevail, and I’m thinking about the welfare of the last person who kidnapped us. She watched Arxaro’s back as the man gave Adellus vague answers about his intentions. Whoever he was, he wasn’t the average thief. Attacking a Sifter and stealing from them. Not even the roughest sort in Lowtown would dream of doing something like that…well, not successfully. Not only stealing from Sifters, but killing Thava too, and without hesitation. If he were willing to stab Thava with that sword, Raela didn’t think he’d have any qualms about running her through as well.
Arxaro rifled through Iphik’s bag, tossing a waterskin and food at their feet as they crossed the Lukraesh river after mid-day. It was smaller and less virulent than the Kinarkand, but still wide and deep. The rickety wood bridge spanning the water seemed to sway as the wagon rumbled across. Raela imagined the wagon falling through into the water, dragging them to the bottom by their chains. Adellus couldn’t even swim. Her hands latched onto the sideboard in a white knuckle grip until they passed.
From the maps she’d seen in her books, she knew they must be nearing Tamirra. There was a huge map of Voxetta in the Conveyor’s museum near the palace in Eudan, and if that was right, they were only a few days away. Grevail loved the museum. He told her that as a boy he made up stories of his own for the things he saw there because he could not read the descriptions, until Raela taught him how. The more she thought about books and reading, it only made her think of her rucksack, rotting away in some meadow a few days behind them.
Adellus was still pestering Arxaro with question after question. Raela thought it futile, but however pointless it might be, she gave an ear to listen.
“You are from the south, I can tell from the way you talk,” Adellus was saying. “I met a woman from Tayori who talked like you.”
“Alright,” Arxaro said, releasing a long, annoyed breath. “I will tell you a little about myself, yes? I am from Pictayn. You know where that is, don’t you?”
“Of course we do,” Raela said. “Why are you in Eudan kidnapping people?” Adellus furrowed his brow at her before returning attentive eyes to Arxaro.
Arxaro remained silent, as if considering whether or not to answer. “It pays well,” he said finally and took a long pull from Iphik’s water skin. “Not that I consider this a kidnapping. I was merely freeing you from the captivity of those of Sifters, yes.”
“You’re right, Arxaro, it was the Sifters who kidnapped us,” Adellus agreed.
Raela gave Adellus an incredulous look but spoke to Arxaro. “We’re free to go then?”
“No—”
Adellus broke in, talking over whatever else Arxaro was about to say. “What did you do before you started kidnapping people? Are you from Rivella?” he asked.
Raela frowned, resisting the urge to hit him. If she didn’t know any better, he was enamored, not fishing for information.
“I have visited Rivella, yes. Beautiful city it is. Most beautiful in all of Voxetta.”
“Is it true that the mesa is five hundred paces tall?” Adellus, asked, scooting as close to Arxaro as the fetters allowed.
“Five hundred? No…no…” Arxaro watched Adellus from the corner of his eye. “It is a thousand.”
Adellus’ mouth dropped open. “I heard the women there are all beautiful as Volera herself, and the rivers are filled with wine.”
Arxaro chuckled. “Pictay women are very beautiful, yes.” He tilted his head and pursed his lips. “Though the Broadleaf and Nottavaquenne flow with water like any other river. Plenty of wine to be found in the districts, yes, enough for a river.”
“Do you know any of the families?”
“The merchant families?” Arxaro rubbed his chin, a frown pulling at his lips. “No, no. They wouldn’t want anything to do with a poor old man like myself, no.”
Tessyn cleared her throat. “A poor old man? A poor old man who steals from Sifters and kills Thava in his spare time?”
Arxaro nodded. “Yes, a poor old man.”
Adellus glared at Tessyn, but spoke to Arxaro. “Have you seen the families? I read that they are the richest people in the whole world.”
Raela wanted to kick him. He is not our friend! Not only that, but she had read him that. Arsevin Sardaho’s book ‘An account of Rivella and the people there-in’. The merchant and banker families of Pictayn were said to be extremely wealthy. “I bet they have enough money to hire a kidnapper.”
Arxaro ignored Raela. “I have seen them, yes. They may well be the wealthiest people in the whole world. I have never seen wealthier.”
Adellus grinned and laughed as if Arxaro had told a joke. “What is—”
Raela kicked him in the ankle. “Not another word, Dell!”
Arxaro turned in time to catch the look on her face and tossed his head ruefully. “It seems the young lady does not want us to talk, no.”
“No, I don’t want him talking to you, our captor,” she growled at Adellus. “What about Grevail, Dell?” She returned her attention to Arxaro. “Don’t call me young lady.”
Arxaro raised an eyebrow. “What should I call you then?”
“Don’t talk to me unless it is to say we are free to go.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Very well, but you should know, I have no intentions to hurt you. Those are not my orders, no. We only want information about the relic…and who hired you to steal it.” Arxaro shrugged and went back to watching the road.
And what if your orders were to hurt me? “Who hired us? Nobody hired us!” Raela screamed, even as she remembered Gaston. “Let us go!” Her shouts had little effect on the stableman, who merely shook his head and began to whistle a tune.
Adellus shot her a quizzical look and spread his hands. Raela grabbed a handful of her trousers to avoid slapping him. Whatever harebrained scheme he had invented, this fellow would not fall for it. Tessyn was right, he was anything but a poor old man.
The parents came down to the horizon and slowly sank behind. Shortly after nightfall, they came upon another village nestled along the highway. Few people roamed the rutted dirt streets that branched away into darkness, though it was a sizable town. Arxaro pulled the wagon down one of those streets.
Raela’s heart quickened and she exchanged alarmed looks with Adellus and Tessyn. She gripped the sideboard and prepared a scream on her lips that would wake half the village.
A stable loomed in the darkness on the left, tucked behind a row of trees. The building emitted the muffled grunts of horses and a strong scent of manure. Arxaro halted the wagon and jumped to the ground.
“I’ll be back.” He turned toward the stable but stopped and raised a finger at them. “Don’t move.” He grabbed Iphik’s burlap sack and trudged toward the gate.
Tessyn raised her chains at his back and shook them with a sneer.
“Why did you do that, Raela?” Adellus asked when Arxaro disappeared through the stable gate. “He isn’t like the Sifters. I think he would let us go.”
Raela shook her head with a roll of her eyes. “After what he did to get us? He isn’t going to let us go, Adellus.”
“Hard to say who is in more trouble right now, us or Grevail,” Adellus said, a long sigh punctuating his words. “If Arxaro is telling us the truth and those men chasing us were Thava, he could be in prison already. Maybe he got away somehow.”
“I don’t trust him,” Raela said, watching the stable. Grevail might be in the hands of the Thava, but whose hands were they in? “We’ve got to do something. I’ve had enough of being carted around in these chains.”
Tessyn cursed at the clasps around her wrists. “I dropped my pick when Grevail went over.” She raised angry eyes that looked on the verge of tears.
Raela leaned to grab her hand. “We’ll find him. He will be alright. He has to be.” Tessyn wasn’t one to cry, in fact, she kept her emotions bottled up more than most men did. If she was openly expressing anything other than anger it meant she’d had enough.
“Grevail will be fine,” Adellus said confidently. “The Thava won’t kill him, send him to a prison maybe, but they won’t put him on the pyre. We can get him out. We have to get him out.” His attention returned to the stable. “Wonder what he is doing in there?”
Raela wasn’t as certain of Grevail’s well-being as Adellus seemed to be, though he did have the habit of seeing everything in a positive light. Grevail could have broken his neck for all they knew. “He’s got to be a Dawnbreaker.”
“That’s what I thought too,” Adellus said. “I don’t think he’s a Sifter, there is no reason for him to lie about that. Who else would want this cube? It must really be something.”
“I should have never let Grevail talk us into this,” Raela said.
Tessyn scowled. “What choice did he have, Raela? We went with him because we didn’t have any choice either. Aeson has probably already left Lowtown in ashes.”
Raela resisted a rebuttal. It wasn’t the time to argue. There were other solutions, other solutions that wouldn’t have led to this. It was her duty to keep them from their most foolish ideas, and this time she failed. If it wasn’t for her, they’d all have been dead long ago. And now look at us.
Arxaro eventually emerged from the night and unhitched the horses. He led them to the stable and inside, only to return a short while later with two different mounts.
“What are you doing?” Adellus asked Arxaro as he harnessed the horses.
“Fresh steeds will make the journey faster,” he said.
“They would have been fine after a night’s rest,” Adellus said.
Arxaro shook his head. “They will not find any rest on our path, no. We will not stop until we reach our destination, unless you must relieve yourselves…and maybe not even then,” he finished with a dry grin and climbed into the driver’s seat. He drove the wagon back to the highway and out of town.
Into the wild darkness of Eudan they went, until they were once more surrounded by the immense countryside, now lurking in shadow. Arxaro swayed silently as the wagon rocked down the road. Adellus and Tessyn slept fitfully, occasionally waking to gaze with fearful eyes at their surroundings before once again nodding off.
Raela watched them for as long as she could, fighting her own urge to sleep. She knew they felt better when they woke and saw her looking back at them. Yet despite her best efforts, she nearly dozed off several times herself until a bump in the road pried her eyes open. And once, when interrupted from one of these brief moments of unwanted sleep, she heard voices.
Raela straightened to look over Arxaro’s shoulder. Just ahead, a wagon lay on its side blocking the highway—crates and other debris spilled around it. A dark haired man and an older woman with red hair stood beside the wreck, while not far away, a blond woman stood with the reins of two horses who busied themselves by nibbling at the tall grass along the road’s edge.
Arxaro pulled the wagon to a stop, frowning at the pace tall banks on either side of the highway that prevented any detour.
“Hello,” the red-headed woman called. “We could use your help,” she pleaded. The dark haired man said something to her and walked to stand between Arxaro and the wagon.
Arxaro grumbled under his breath, then whispered over his shoulder. “Keep quiet and stay still.” He hopped down and went to talk with them.
“Should we say we’ve been kidnapped?” Adellus asked.
“Good a time as any,” Tessyn said. “He’s no Sifter.”
Raela shook her head with an eye on the sword swinging from Arxaro’s hip. “You saw what he did to those Thava. Look at these people, do they look like fighters to you? I don’t think they even have weapons.”
Arxaro came to stand with the dark haired man. “What happened?”
The man released an exasperated sigh and motioned at the horses. “Skittish Iffy there. A wild dog jumped out of the grass barking and growling. Iffy panicked and took off—ol’ Bitsy went with her. I tried to pull em’ straight, but she tipped it over anyway.” The man shook his head and glared at the horse. Iffy swished her tail and paused with a wad of grass in her mouth to return his gaze.
Arxaro grimaced, rubbing his chin. “If you can take those horses on the other side, tie them off with some rope, yes? Then…we lift from here.”
The dark haired man studied the wagon as if imagining Arxaro’s plan. After a moment, he nodded and turned to the blond woman holding Iffy and Bitsy’s reins. “Phora, take them around, please.”
The blond woman led the horses around the overturned wagon while the dark haired man retrieved a length of rope from one of the many crates laying in the road. They all disappeared on the other side as Arxaro instructed Phora where to tie the horses. When the horses were ready, the dark haired man, Arxaro, and the red headed woman came back into view.
The red-headed woman cast an eye toward Raela in the wagon. “It would be easier if they helped, wouldn’t it?” she asked Arxaro.
Arxaro stared at her, as if surprised she would ask, but quickly shook his head. “No need, no. We will manage.”
The woman shrugged, but as Arxaro and the others bent to grip the wagon, she instead sent a curious gaze Raela’s way before joining them.
“I’m going to say something,” Adellus whispered.
“Don’t Dell,” Tessyn said. “Raela is right, he might kill them.”
“I don’t think he would,” Adellus said. “I’m telling you, he isn’t like the Sifters. Those Thava would have done worse to him and you know it. I could have got him to let us go if Raela wouldn’t have interrupted.”
“Alright, Phora, get the horses moving,” Arxaro shouted to the blond woman on the other side of the wagon.
The horses snapped the ropes taut and the wagon rocked in place. Arxaro and the others lifted, grunting and groaning from the effort. The wagon tilted upright, then came to a tipping point and crashed onto the wheels in a squeal of wood. It crept forward toward the ditch until the dark haired man slid a crate beneath a wheel to stop it.
The man turned from inspecting the damage with a smile for Arxaro. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate the help. I’m Opulus.”
“Antaris,” Arxaro replied. “It is of no consequence, no, but I must be on my way.”
The man sent an inquiring gaze at Arxaro’s wagon, and the people inside, but said nothing. “Perhaps you could stay and help me mend the wheel?”
Arxaro shook his head. “I’m sorry, I am, but I must be on my way.”
The dark haired man nodded as if he understood and frowned at the damaged wheel. “Phora, hitch those horses so we can get out of his way.” The blond woman went to do as he asked.
The red headed woman gestured at Raela. “Would you and your friends like something to eat or drink? It is the least we could do for your help.”
Arxaro waved impatiently at her. “It is quite alright. We must be on our way, yes, quickly.”
The woman furrowed her brow and cast another suspicious glance at Raela.
Phora harnessed the mounts and the wagon soon creaked out of the way to the roadside, one wheel wobbling badly.
Raela looked at Adellus, thankful that he only sat scowling at the wagon bed. Getting these people killed won’t help anyone. She swept her eyes over the field of tall grass beyond the road, motionless and stretching into the still night. If only they could escape into it, Arxaro would never find them hiding there in the dark.
Her gaze stumbled across on an odd depression, a dip in the grass, as if something were indeed hiding there….and it moved. It angled toward the road, like a fisherman’s line pulling through a quiet lake. Raela’s thoughts raced as she watched it come closer. A wolf! Or more likely, the wild dog the dark haired man mentioned. It came to the edge of the ditch and paused. Raela readied a shout to alert the others…but the words died in her throat.
The grass parted and what she could only describe as a blur, like the hazy air around a flame, descended from the bank to the road. She shook her head and dropped her eyes to the ground. A footprint was pressed into the dirt, right where the blur was. A large, oddly shaped footprint. As she watched, another print materialized in front of it. The grass behind the blur was smeared and distorted, but so subtly, it was hard to focus on the strange aberration.
“Arxaro…” she whispered and stood, pointing at it.
Arxaro turned her way and arched an eyebrow in surprise. He looked to where she pointed, then back to her. With a shake of his head he stalked toward the wagon, grumbling under his breath.
The red headed woman followed close behind with a suspicious glint in her eye. “Sir…Sir…”
Arxaro whirled to confront her. “Miss, I’ve told you, we don’t need anything.”
The woman stopped, right in front of the blur. “Something isn’t right here. Why do those girls look so scared? Who are…”
The air behind the woman shimmered, like ripples on a pond glinting in the sunlight. A form coalesced from these ripples, taking the shape of animalistic curves and muscles. It lasted only a moment, and when the ripples disappeared, a gigantic creature towered over the pair of humans before it. Smooth gray skin stretched over large, veiny muscles. Many wispy white hairs floated from the beast’s hide, shifting in the slight breeze and illuminated by Arulan’s pure light. The creature’s thick neck ended in a bulbous head, and where eyes should be, were instead only flat expanses of skin.
A jagged triangular hole in the middle of the beast’s face shivered, expelling mist in a forceful exhalation. The creature’s wide crescent maw cranked open to reveal rows of sharp, arrowhead-shaped teeth. The beast dwarfed the red-headed woman, Arxaro, and even the horses and the wagon. It teetered suddenly on thin legs and raised a pair of long arms. Along each forearm were serrated rows of bone that ran all the way to the hand. The fingers were fewer in number than a man’s, crooked and bony, and each had a claw almost as long as the fingers themselves. The beast balled its clawed fingers. Raela gasped as the bone plates along the forearm seemed to flex and a nearly pace long spike of white, serrated horn, extended beyond the creatures fist.
The monster hurled that spiked arm at the red headed woman’s back. It ripped through her effortlessly, like a sword through parchment. The woman screamed—a shocking, frantic wail. She raised horrified eyes from the massive piece of bone through her body and met Raela’s gaze. The beast jerked its arm and yanked the woman off her feet, tossing her through the air. Her pitiful body slammed to the ground at the foot of her own wagon twenty paces away, like a discarded plaything.
The dark haired man stared at her aghast, but recovered from his shock and dashed to her side with a wail of his own. Arxaro stumbled backward, sputtering and clutching at his sword. He ducked around the side of the wagon, casting a terrified look over the sideboard as he ran past.
The beast emitted a snake-like rattle that was so deep Raela felt it in her chest. The chains laying on the wagon bed vibrated, clattering and slithering around their feet like eels. The serrated bone horns paralleling the arms, one streaked with the red-headed woman’s blood, retracted and disappeared as the thing opened its fists. The rattle stopped and the beast shimmered again. It became translucent, almost invisible, like a raindrop on glass, before flashing into existence again. It crept toward the horses pulling the wagon, silent and menacing, giant head swaying. The mounts tossed and writhed in their harnesses, whinnying and jumping onto hind legs. The beast stopped before the mounts, as if inspecting them, the triangular hole above the mouth moving in and out.
The creature again balled it’s fists, the bone plates along the forearms flexed, and the serrated horns ejected. It thrust one spiked arm into the belly of a horse and the mount collapsed with an ear piercing scream. The sound of the horse’s desperate movements made the hair on Raela’s arms stand on end, yet the beast only stood over it, watching, or so it would seem if it had eyes. The remaining horse bucked, hooves cracking against the wagon, and tossed violently. Spikes once again retracted, the Shimmerbeast hooked the horse’s neck in its sharp finger claws and pulled the head toward its mouth, handling it like a toy. Many rows of sharp teeth sank into the horse’s neck and the steed’s searing shriek was abruptly cut short as bright red blood erupted in a spray from the edges of the beast’s mouth, spattering wetly to the road.
Adellus ripped the shoe from his foot and tossed it at the creature. “Ashes! It’s going to eat us alive!”
The Shimmerbeast rattled, rippling and shimmering, and ducked as the shoe flew wide. Dropping the lifeless horse to the ground with a thud, it centered it’s gaze on Adellus, or so Raela thought—the flat spaces where eyes should be gave no indication. The Shimmerbeast extended a blood dripping claw toward them. Trembling, Raela hid behind her hands but unable to look away, peeked through her fingers. She expected the monster to launch itself at them any moment, but instead, the Shimmerbeast reached to poke at Iphik’s burlap bag in the driver’s seat. The triangular hole in the face moved in and out as the beast turned its head, as if unsure what the bag was.
Opulus rose from beside the red headed woman’s body. “Apora!” he screamed and drew a small knife from his belt. “Kill me then! Stricken! Kill me too!” He ran forward and slung his blade at the monster. It vaulted off the creature’s back and over the wagon. The beast spun to face the dark haired man, emitting another deep rattle that shook Raela’s brain in her skull.
The man’s anger vanished as the Shimmerbeast’s attention fell on him. Releasing a horrified groan, he darted toward the ditch and scrambled up the bank into the waist high grass. The beast shrieked, like air escaping a kettle, and bounded after him—thin legs tripling the pace of a man in a shambling gait. Raela watched it race away, flashing in and out of visibility as it went, trailing long, wispy white hair.
“Opulus!” Phora’s shout came from somewhere in the dark fields. “Run!”
Arxaro’s head poked above the wagon behind them. “Ash at dawn,” the man uttered in shock.
The beast climbed out of the road and into the fields after Opulus. Arxaro scrambled around the side and jumped into the driver’s seat, snatching up Iphik’s bag. He spared a grim look for the horses laying dead in their harnesses.
“Don’t you leave us here,” Raela pleaded. “You can’t leave us here!”
Arxaro’s hard blue eyes centered on her, then dropped to her chains. The beast shrieked, and Opulus screamed.