Rowan
The Ghost dropped into the room. Shadows leapt around him,
creeping from the darkness as if in worship. Rowan scrambled to his
feet, backing away and glancing side to side for a weapon. His eyes
locked onto a broom left in the corner of the room and lunged for it.
The Ghost watched him, standing so still he didn’t look real.
Rowan grabbed the broom and turned back, raising it. The Ghost raised
an eyebrow. A nervous giggle caught in Rowan’s throat. The gesture
was so human, not that of a trained killer.
“How much do you want? I can pay you double whatever your
employer is paying you to leave without killing me.” His fingers
trembled and he clutched the broom handle tighter.
“I’m not here to kill you. I’m here to save you.”
Rowan was so surprised he dropped the broom. The Ghost’s
voice sounded as expected, deep gravely, not the voice of someone he’d
trust.
“Yeah, right. I met your friend some time ago. He sure didn’t
seem friendly.” He snatched up his weapon again.
The Ghost tilted his head. “If I wanted to kill you, you’d be
dead. Someone else wants to kill you though. You aren’t safe here, but
you will be with me.”
“You can’t expect me to just trust you like that! You’re a GGhost!” Rowan’s heart was banging against his chest and the broom
slipped in his sweaty hands.
“Look.” The Ghost raised his hand, and Rowan raised the
broom, but he only flipped off his hood and pulled down the mask.
Rowan stared. The man looking back couldn’t be any older than
himself. He didn’t have fangs like the stories. His skin was pale, but the
mask didn’t hide a rotting corpse. The tip of the broom drooped.
“You might not remember me, but seventeen, almost eighteen
passes ago, our village was burned down. I don’t know why, and I can
only remember pieces. My name is–”
“Eldin,” Rowan whispered. The broom clattered to the floor
and he staggered against the chair.
Eldin nodded slowly. “I can’t force you to come, but if you
don’t you will die.”
“How do you know?”
“That wine. I poisoned it. Easily. The Golden Order hired me
to do it.”
Rowan swallowed, staring at the jug of wine he was about to
drink. The Golden Order. Trying to kill him? No, that was crazy. “Then
why are you saving me instead?”
A cacophony of voices and feet echoed from beyond the door
in the stairwell. Rowan glanced at it, and back at Eldin, who was still
staring at him.
“I’ll tell you, but you must make a choice now. Stay or come.”
Eldin held out a hand and Rowan stared at it. For so long, he had been
scared of this creature, and now one looking very much like his first
crush appeared on his windowsill to save him from political hell.
Rowan bit his lip and glanced at Eldin. His eyes weren’t dark
like he remembered, but clear, and even though they were intimidating,
Rowan thought he saw the truth in them. He clasped the Ghost’s hand.
The party climbing the stairs burst in, Rourke at the head.
“Rowan!” Horror blazed in his eyes.
It was too late. A blackness enveloped Rowan. He wanted to
scream, but found he didn’t have a mouth to scream with. His skin
crawled and nothingness caressed him. Without warning, his tower was
back in sight, except he was now looking at it from the outside.
His throat closed when he glanced down. Nothing but air
separated him from the ground. He clutched Eldin as the Ghost hit the
tower on all fours, muttered an unintelligible word, and they were
sucked into the bleak landscape once again. The next thing he knew, he
was on the back of a horse.
“Ride, ride, ride!” Eldin yelled. Rowan was still clutching to
him, gulping in air. He looked around, eyes wide, and saw the girl he
had seen from the top of the tower galloping next to them. Twisting
awkwardly, he could see Rourke hanging out the tower window.
Rowan’s heart dropped. He wished he could have explained. If anyone
was on his side, it was that man.
The clattering of chains returned Rowan to his present
dilemma. The city gate was closing on them. He was a little relieved.
The guards would assume Eldin was kidnapping him and just bring him
back to the castle and everything could go back to normal. Except Eldin
showed no signs of stopping.
“Hand!” Eldin stuck his hand out to the redhead riding the
white horse. She steered closer. A bead of sweat ran down Rowan’s
temple. The gates were almost closed. The horses wouldn’t fit. And
they weren’t stopping.
Less than a man's length from the gates, Eldin caught the girl's
hand and Rowan was hurled into the black place once again. When his
eyes cleared and breath returned to his lungs, they were outside
Kingston, galloping up over the hill and out of sight.
“Stop, stop, stop,” Rowan said. His head was spinning and he
could barely make out heads or tails of what was going on. Eldin pulled
up the reins. The horse slowed its pace and came to a halt. Rowan
slipped off, holding his head, walked a few unsteady paces and puked.
When he looked up, Eldin and the girl were staring at him. A scowl
crossed his face, but a wave of nausea won over and he turned and
puked again.
“You okay?” the girl asked, sliding from her own saddle and
touching his back.
“Yeah, yeah. Never take me through whatever it was you just
did again.” He waved her off.
“I can’t promise that. If you’re done, we gotta go. It won’t be
long until they’re after us,” Eldin said. He held out a hand to Rowan,
who took it and was pulled onto the back of the horse again. They set
off at a fast trot, a much more reasonable pace.
“What kind of horse is this?” he asked. Never had he seen one
so deep a shade of black or so responsive.
“Jahtakūma,” Eldin said.
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“Because only Ghosts own them. It means shadow horse.”
“Are you serious?” The girl on the white horse wrinkled her
nose at Eldin. “You named your horse, Horse?”
Rowan couldn’t see the exchange, but Eldin must have
confirmed it because she rolled her eyes.
“I’m Zinnia, by the way,” she said, smiling. Her red hair
bounced against her shoulders as they rode, and the dress she wore was
unlike one Rowan had seen before. A slit in the skirts made it possible
for her to ride in it.
“Oh, uh, Rowan.” He never had to introduce himself before.
“So, uh, where are we going?”
“We’ll stop in Bridger. We should get there by nightfall.”
“Oh, okay.” Rowan knew Bridger. It was the last stop on his
tours. He had missed it this last time when he had to rush home early.
A silence fell upon them and he shifted uncomfortably.
“Hey, Eldin, what’s it like being a Ghost? I never imagined you
of all people could become one.”
He watched Zinnia glance sideways at Eldin, curiosity in her
eyes, and wondered how long they’d known each other.
“It was a lot easier before you two showed up.”
“Me? I’ve been here ten minutes!”
“And already I’ve had twice as much conversation as usual.”
Rowan glanced at Zinnia, unable to tell if Eldin was joking or
not. There was a smile on her face. He let out a breath.
“I’ve been stuck in a tower, I’ve never been so quiet in my life.”
“This is quiet?” Eldin’s voice dripped with acid. Zinnia
guffawed.
Rowan had never felt so confused. He wished for his own horse
so he could read Eldin’s face too, but then thought of his arm slung
around Eldin’s waist and decided he could live without one. Zinnia
saved him by changing the subject.
“Why were you in that tower, anyway?”
“Oh, well, short story, it was the safest place from Ghosts.”
“I think I’d like to hear the long one.” She glanced at Eldin
again, a sly smile on her lips. Rowan narrowed his eyes. She was just
using him to annoy Eldin, but he couldn't stand the thought of sitting in
silence, and told her anyway.
Eldin grunted when he finished the tale and said, “Clearly the
Golden Order has something out for you.”
“You think it was them at Pinesdale, too? But I didn’t have an
heir then, I don’t even have one now, but I guess the Order probably
doesn’t know that yet.”
“What are you babbling about, Rowan?”
He glanced at her again, brows furrowed. No one had ever
spoken to him like that before. “An heir. For the throne? My grandfather
is sick, bedridden. When he dies, I’ll inherit his seat. It’s important to
have an heir just in case something happens. An assassination, for
example.”
“What happens if there isn’t an heir?” Zinnia asked.
“Upheaval. Our bloodline was chosen by the gods, told directly
to the Golden Order. If there is no heir, there will be no bloodline to
take over the throne. There could be fighting, even civil war.”
Zinnia’s eyebrow had crept upward over the course of his
explanation and he scowled at her.
“What?”
“You all live in your own little world in Kingston, don’t you?”
“Excuse me?” Shock took over, replacing the anger rising in
his chest.
“The only ones affected would be Kingston itself and maybe
the surrounding cities. The rest of Alarya would continue to go on.”
“No way, we keep the peace, make sure the laws are followed,
that taxes are paid. There’s always jobs open for those who wish to
become knights.”
“Okay, okay, you're right. All of Alarya would feel the effects
because no one would have to pay taxes anymore.”
The bickering lasted until dusk settled and the torches atop
Bridger’s walls were lit, and by then it had morphed into a difference
in opinion on Zinnia’s clothing.
“Why don’t you just wear pants? They’d be easier to ride in.”
“Finally, a man from Kingston telling me to wear more mens
clothing rather than dresses! I did wear them for a long time, but I like
dresses, too.”
“Enough. We’re nearly there.”
They made it just before the gates closed for the night. Rowan
was sure the guards were going to argue about letting them in, and he
was prepared to announce who he was, but when they noticed Eldin,
they shut their mouths and waved them through.
Eldin nodded at them as they rode in, gates closing behind
them.
“That was close,” Rowan said.
“Could have been here faster if someone didn’t talk the whole
time.”
Rowan didn’t answer as he was staring at weird shadow fog
swirling around the horses hooves.
“Is it supposed to do that?”
“I’ve got a job.” Eldin got off Kūma and looked directly at
Rowan and Zinnia. “Find a tavern. Wait for me there.”
The fog consumed him and the shadows blew away as if by
wind. Rowan stared at the spot Eldin was just standing, his jaw hanging
open.
“Wha—he—he’s just gonna leave us here?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” Zinnia gave him a smug
smile and flicked her reins.
Rowan glowered, taking Eldin’s place in the saddle and
following her. They stopped in front of the first tavern they found. A
couple horses were already tied up in front, so they left theirs next to
them and went in.
Music collided with Rowan’s ears as he crossed the threshold.
A short man was playing a flute while a girl in a revealing dress sang
an upbeat tune whose words he couldn't make out because the rest of
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the tavern was laughing and singing along.
A grin slid over his face. Every time he went to a tavern, it was
booked well in advance, with their own entertainment. He had never
experienced one as a citizen instead of a prince. Zinnia elbowed her
way to the bar, ordered them each a drink, and found a table near the
wall. Rowan sat in the booth opposite her and she slid him the drink.
“What is it?” he peered inside, swirling it around.
“Ale,” Zinnia said, taking a deep swig of her own.
Rowan sipped at it, making a face as he swallowed.
“Not what you’re used to back home, huh?”
“I’m more a fan of wine myself. Do they have any?”
Zinnia almost spit her drink out. “You get what they have, and
this is it.”
“Maybe if I went up there…”
Zinnia grabbed his arm as he stood and pulled him back to the
table.
“Don’t even think of it.”
“Why not?”
“Are you serious, Rowan?” she whispered fiercely. “We need
to keep a low profile. They’ll be looking for you.”
“Prince Rowan,” he said, falling back into his seat and crossing
his arms.
“Not here, you aren’t.” Zinnia brought the tankard to her lips,
eyes darting around the room as she drank.
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the music. Rowan
drank his ale, but only because he had nothing else to drink. When
Zinnia went for a second round, she came back with food, placing a
plate in front of him.
The nausea from earlier came back when an eye the size of a
regal stared up at him from a pink scaly head. The middle of the fish
was crispy, a pile of butter slapped on top. The tail wiggled back and
forth still.
“You okay? You look a little green around the gills.” Zinnia
pointed to the fish and laughed. Rowan did not.
“How can you eat it while it's staring at you like that?”
“It’s just for show. Scoot it to the side or cover it with a leaf or
something.”
Rowan slid out the large green leaf it sat on and used it to edge
the head to the side of his plate and laid it over top. He gagged, making
Zinnia giggle uncontrollably.
No one bothered them until well after the entertainment packed
up and half the guests had left or retired to bed. Two men stumbled
around chairs and empty tables. Rowan hadn’t noticed them before
now, but they were obviously locals. The woman behind the bar eyed
them as she cleaned tankards.
“Don’t start anything,” she said. The drunks waved her off and
made slurred excuses as they approached Rowan and Zinnia’s table.
Rowan’s heart fluttered in his chest. They were both much
bigger than him, broad shoulders and thick arms. Neither of them were
looking at him though. It was as if he didn’t exist.
“Hey there, pretty lady. Haven’t seen you around these parts
before.” The one who spoke had a scar across his face, bisecting his
nose.
“Leave us be,” she said, scowling.
“Aw, don’t be like that! We just want a little fun.” The other
had a crooked smile.
“She said no,” Rowan said, his voice cracking.
The two men looked at him as if noticing him for the first time.
“I don’t think you get it, pretty boy. It’s an honor to come home
with me, or out back, whatever the lady prefers.” His putrid breath
washed over Rowan and he leaned back, nose wrinkling.
“I don’t think you get it.” Rowan stood, unwilling to just sit by.
“I’m the Crown Prince. She’s under my protection. If you touch her,
I’ll have you hanged.”
Scar grinned broadly and laughed, turning away. Rowan
smiled, he knew invoking his title would work. Then, Scar swung. A
sharp pain blossomed from Rowan’s nose and warm blood gushed as
he hit the ground.
Zinnia yelled as Scar’s friend dragged her from the booth by
her hair. The barkeep was yelling, but didn’t come out from behind the
bar. Rowan looked around the room for help, but no one came. The last
of the patrons averted their eyes and hunched their shoulders.
Rowan spit blood from his mouth and tried to stand. “Let her
go!”
Scar grabbed the front of his shirt and looked him over. “You
wanna come too? I’ve never had a boy before, but first time for
everything, eh?”
Rowan’s eyes grew wide and he tried to peel back the fingers
clenching his shirt, but they were iron tight. He kicked out but Scar only
laughed, unaffected by his blows. Tears burned in his eyes and a chill
ran over his skin, the hair on his arms standing on end.
Scar’s laughter cut off abruptly, and he looked down. Rowan
followed his gaze. A blade covered in dark red blood stuck out from the
middle of his chest. An arm clothed in black reached around his neck,
drawing a smaller blade against the soft flesh. Scar’s eyes bulged as a
sheet of blood ran down his chest and his grip on Rowan slackened.
Rowan fell backwards, breathing heavily and clutching at his
chest, sure his heart was about to explode. Scar dropped to the floor.
His friend took a step back, releasing Zinnia and holding his hands up,
color draining from his face.
Eldin stepped over the body, flipping the bloody dagger in his
fingers.
“Leave now, and never come back.” He poked the tip into the
base of the remaining man’s neck. A dot of red welled. Whimpering, he
nodded, squeezing his eyes shut.
Eldin stepped back, and the man ran, tripping over his friend's
body on his way out the door. Rowan’s hands were shaking. Blood from
his nose and the dead man covered his shirt. He had never seen so much
blood in his life.
“Rowan, are you okay?” Zinnia was kneeling over him. He
nodded mutely and Eldin pulled him up by the elbow.
“Did you tell them?” Eldin asked.
“Tell them what?” Rowan asked thickly. He spit more blood
out of his mouth.
“Your name! That you’re the prince,” Eldin hissed.
“He basically announced it to the whole tavern,” Zinnia said,
tugging on the little bead she wore in her hair.
“Rahk. We have to go. Meet me at the horses.”
Zinnia tugged on his arm, and they hurried to the door. The rest
of the tavern was silent now, all eyes on them until Eldin stepped into
the middle of the room.
Rowan didn’t see what he was doing as the door slammed
behind them. Zinnia leaped into Azra’s saddle, and Rowan stood
awkwardly by Kūma.
“Get on!” Zinnia said, pointing to the black horse.
“But it’s Eldin’s…”
“It doesn’t matter, we need to hurry!”
Rowan nodded and climbed on. Kūma tossed her head as if in
greeting. Eldin shouldered through the door, leaping onto a chestnut
horse with a green saddle tied next to Kūma. He pulled the reins to free
the horse.
“Move!”
They took off down the deserted streets. Rowan held on tight
to the reins. The twists and turns they took disoriented him and it was
all he could do to stay on the horse. When they galloped into view of
the southern gates, Rowan didn’t question what would happen and
immediately took Eldin’s hand when he threw it out.
The blackness took them and they were outside the gates,
running across the open plains in the moonlight. Eldin slowed the horse
he was riding, and the others followed suit. Rowan didn’t have to do
anything, Kūma knew what was going on.
“Hey, you good?”
Rowan blinked and glanced up. He had been staring at the back
of Kūma’s head without realizing it. Now Eldin was beside him,
watching him.
“I–”
He was going to say he was fine, but he wasn’t. He was still
covered in blood. It was all he could smell, and he couldn't get the image
of Eldin slicing Scar’s throat out of his head.
“You killed that man with no hesitation. He was alive, and then
he wasn’t, and you just stepped right over him to threaten his friend.”
Tears blurred Rowan’s vision.
“You do understand what they were going to do to you and
Zinnia, don’t you?”
Rowan nodded, hiding his eyes behind a shaky, bloody hand.
“I know, I know. I’m grateful, but I’ve just… I’ve never seen someone
killed like that. And I never thought it would be you, of all people, doing
the killing.”
Eldin pulled up on his reins and slid off the horse. “Come.”
Rowan followed suit, standing in front of Eldin, who looked so
cold, so distant in his mask and hood. He blinked the tears from his
eyes, and they made tracks through the dried blood.
Eldin slid his hood back and pulled the mask from his face and
Rowan saw his best friend again. He bit his lip, choking back a sob.
“I know it’s been eighteen passes, but you always lived on in
my memory as the cute little kid who caught spiders and brought them
back outside, who refused to let me squish any bug, no matter how big
or small. And now…” Rowan couldn’t hold it back any longer.
Eldin stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Rowan.
He didn’t even care that it felt a bit stiff, because that was Eldin. Always
a little awkward around people, but cared about everyone and
everything.
He allowed himself to be held until he got his breathing under
control again, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
“We’re all a bit different now. You’re nothing like I remember,
which isn’t saying much because most of my memories were wiped
when I became a Ghost.” Eldin smiled at him.
“Really? How do you remember me then?”
“It’s a long story, and I will tell you, but first there’s a few
things we have to get straight.”
The smile dropped, but not the kindness in his eyes. Rowan
took a breath and nodded.
“When you accepted my hand in that tower, you ceased to be
Prince Rowan. You are now only Rowan. Even that much will make
things difficult, but you have given up everything else, I won’t force
you to give up your name.
“You can not invoke your princely status. No one out here is
going to recognize you, and it will put the Golden Order on our trail. If
they don’t know where you are, it makes it much harder to kill you.”
Rowan nodded, folding his arms across his chest.
“I won’t try to pretend I understand what you are going
through, but I do know what a big change this will mean for you. If you
can work with us, we will work with you.
“Now there are a few Unmapped between here and HalfwayTo-Nowhere. We will stop at the first one we come across and get you
a change of clothes and a cloak. In the meantime, this is Trigg.”
Eldin reached up his hand and Zinnia tossed him the reins of
the horse he was riding. He took Rowan’s hand and placed the reins in
it.
“I know he’s not the horse you had at home, but he’s yours
now. Bought, fair and square.”
Rowan walked up to Trigg, holding up his hand. The horse
tossed his head and nuzzled Rowan’s palm. He smiled. He heard a sniff
and turned to see Zinnia wiping her eyes.
“Don’t mind me,” she said. “Just got something in my eye.”
Eldin swung up on Kūma and looked at both of them. “Let’s
get going. It will be a long night staying ahead of the group following
us.”
“Is it the Golden Order?” Rowan asked.
“Could be, but I don’t think they have any piscine in their little
cult.”
“Rourke.” Rowan’s newfound happiness fell a notch.
“We can’t let them find us, Rowan, no matter how close of
friends you were.”
“I know.” He sighed. “Let’s go.”