Sara nudged the crate of explosive powder with her toe in disapproval. “Send it back.”
Standing next to the crate, the pudgy man dressed in a sweat-stained robe fumed. “This powder has been made and passed down in my family for generations. It is the best in all of Arcadia.”
“Best doesn’t mean effective.” Sara scribbled a formula on her clipboard and tore off the sheet. “Here. Follow this recipe.”
The man glowered as he scanned the note. “This will make it weaker.”
“Which is what the King wants,” Sara said. “Or do you want to speak with him directly about this?”
The man crumbled the note and stuffed it into his robes. “I will charge extra for the trip.”
“That’s the King’s problem, not mine,” said Sara.
The man laughed. “You are very bold for someone so young.” He lifted the crate back onto his cart and wheeled it back out the castle gates, past the guards. There wasn’t anyone waiting to be paid anymore, not after rumors of a siege on Bronzehaven had gotten out.
Sara went back into the castle, making her way to the temporary workshops. She heard the sounds of their work long before reaching the dining hall.
The doors were already open. No one greeted Sara but she didn’t expect them to. They might not know who exactly she was, but she was in charge of them and that didn’t sit well with anybody.
There were ten tables crammed in the hall, each occupied by half a dozen of alchemists. They hacked and tinkered, each hard at work following the instructions given to them.
Sara overlooked each table for a while, correcting any minor mistakes she saw. She was met largely with scornful glares but she couldn’t care less. As long as the work was being done, that was more than she could ask for.
A little bit more of this and I can go home.
Making a loop around the hall, she came up to the last table. This one was the canisters of gas, a last-minute addition to the plan.
Leaning over the shoulders of the five alchemists, she watched them wrestle to get the chemicals inside the finger-sized tubes.
“Don’t be so rough. You’ll end up changing the shape of the tubes and they won’t fly right that way.”
One of the alchemists threw down his canister. “This is a waste of my skills. I am a scholar, not some inane metalworker.” He started to get up, but Sara grabbed the collar of his robes and slammed his face into the table, the crunch ringing through the hall.
She let go, and the alchemist slid limply to the ground. “Anyone else thinks they’re not being paid enough to save the world?”
None answered, and this time no one dared to glare.
“Good.” Sara tucked her clipboard under her arm and left.
The air between the castle’s ugly bronze walls was suffocating. Sara couldn’t wait to be outside, but at the entrance, she had to stop.
Standing by the stairs was the masked girl. She was reading a letter, the contents of which Sara could only guess. She wanted to think it might be a love note from the way the girl was folding it into a neat little square and tucking it into her sleeve.
“I guess even mass-murdering puppet masters have their admirers,” Sara joked, going closer.
“There’s a wedding going on in the Castle of Skulls,” the masked girl told Sara as she gave a bow of greeting. “They must’ve found a way to legitimize Gweyn.”
“Who is Gweyn?” Sara asked. “I keep hearing Taiga’s kids mentioning her.”
The mentioning of Taiga made Sara a little bit sad. She knew her chances of going back to the orphanage to see the children were slim, but she didn’t want to go fight the Calamity Dragon without saying goodbye to them at least.
“Another piece in the game,” the masked girl answered. “How are the preparations?”
Sara handed over her clipboard. “We can plant the entire field by tomorrow. Maybe the day after.”
“Let’s hope that’s enough,” said the masked girl, barely glancing at the clipboard before tossing it aside. She stretched, sighed, and walked away. At the front door, she turned back. “Coming?”
Sara shrugged. “Depends on where.”
“As if that matters,” the masked girl mused. “I’m taking a walk. You’re welcome to join me. After all, this might be the last time for either of us to see the city before everything ends.”
Not really knowing what the masked girl meant, Sara followed her out into the courtyard. There were groups of men and boys running around and sparring with each other, some clearly more skilled than others, but none looked ready for battle.
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“Can I ask you something?” she asked the masked girl.
“Sure.”
“Do they know you’re a traveler?”
“No,” said the masked girl, stepping around a pair of dueling men. They weren’t wearing any armor, but the badassery was lessened by their wooden swords.
“They also don’t know I’d been skimming from the treasury to fund Jack’s operation near the Corridor either.”
“Wow,” said Sara. “I didn’t think you’d just come out and say it.”
“None of this will matter soon,” said the masked girl. “The battle coming to our doorsteps will be the last one any of these people will know.”
They passed through the training yard and came to the castle gates. One of the guards cranked a lever and the gate lowered for the girls to cross.
By the time they made it out of the castle grounds, the sun was fully above the horizon. Sara hadn’t realized she worked through the entire night. She didn’t feel tired, only numbness.
As they entered the city, noises of civilization seeped over the sounds of nature, and soon they were surrounded by the familiar scene of a busy life.
The masked girl asked, “You hear the word traveler used around here a lot, don’t you?”
“I do,” Sara answered. “The way they use it seems like slang, though.”
They both stepped off the footpath to let a woman lugging a cart through. It was loaded with all sorts of daily items, from clothing to food.
“That’s because it is,” said the masked girl. “We might think we come from the real world, but to them, we are alien beings who have the power to topple their entire kingdoms with a wave of our hands.”
Then, laughing, she added, “Thankfully for them, most of us don’t make it very far. We’re more of a nuisance than anything else, with our constant questions and need to stick our noses into everybody’s business.”
“Not all of us,” Sara said, thinking about Jamie. He was the first Arcadian she had any real dealings with after coming here. It felt weird to think of him as some computer program, but then again, he didn’t really treat her differently from all the rest of the people here.
Not as a nuisance. A weapon. Something to be feared.
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because only the strongest humans survive Arcadia.” The masked girl’s voice echoed down the quiet street. It occurred to Sara that all the noise before was from the people trying to leave the city, and as more fled, the city’s vitality dimmed.
“And I mean real humans like you, Sara. That’s exactly what the Calamity Dragon meant for this world to do.”
What few people left on the streets parted away as Sara approached them.
She didn’t blame anyone for distancing themselves from a traveler. They probably knew the attack on the square was done by someone like her, and she would promise not to do it again, except here she was, overseeing the manufacturing of explosives meant to kill even more people.
Not kill, she reminded herself. Maim.
The skies grew dark. Thick clouds choked the sunlight, covering everything in shadow. Sara looked to her left. They were passing the alleyway of travelers. She could see the tarp she and Taiga sat under to eat takoyaki, before she ruined everything.
“Can I have some money?” she asked the masked girl, who had been watching her carefully. Reaching into her robes, she plucked out a heavy coin purse and handed it over.
“Don’t spend it all.”
Sara nearly did, but when she reemerged from the alleyway carrying five bags of snacks and a ball of takoyaki in her mouth, the masked girl didn’t say anything.
“Want one?” Sara asked, sticking a ball out.
The masked girl shook her head. “We should get going.”
“Okay, but one more stop.” Sara chewed slowly, savoring the authentic taste. The octopus that was usually inside was replaced with chicken, which Sara didn’t care much for. She couldn’t really blame the shop owner though, for failing to get something that can only be obtained by a more advanced civilization.
The girls made their way through the city, this time Sara doing the leading. The masked girl followed behind in silence. She seemed tired, Sara noted, but didn’t know whether that was because of the upcoming battle, or something else entirely.
By noon, they had made it to the orphanage. It still looked the way it did when Sara left it and was just as noisy, which she felt good about. At least something in this world wasn’t falling apart.
“You okay with waiting a little longer?” she asked the masked girl, who leaned against the metal gate and waved for her to go in.
“You can have the rest.” She pushed her half box of takoyaki into the girl’s hands, then carried the rest of her goodies inside.
It was after lunch, and the smell of cabbage and onion lingered through the hallways. Sara made her way carefully down each corridor, peering around each corner for signs of…
“Fancy seeing you back.”
She jumped, then turned with a smile. “Mother Chansel,” she said. “Hello.”
The older woman peered sternly down at Sara before breaking into a grin. “You look like hell, girl.”
Sara lifted up her bags. “I brought snacks.”
Mother Chansel thanked her with a hug. “Thank you. With so many shops closing, it’s hard to get supplies.”
Sara helped the woman unpack the food. “You’re not leaving Bronzehaven?”
“No,” Mother Chansel answered. “The road is just as dangerous if we stay. And who knows? Maybe fate will smile kindly on these kids for once, and King Rychard will fend off the Skulls.”
Once she was alone, Sara continued looking through all the doors. Most of the kids were napping. Some were still up doing quiet activities. She had no doubt Likar would be among the latter. Sure enough, she found him in the art room.
She stopped by the door and watched. The kid was elbow-deep in crayons, so focused on his new masterpiece he didn’t look up.
Sara quietly reached into her pocket, took out the drawing he gave her, and placed it by the door. Then, without a sound, she left.
Back outside, the masked girl seemed to have dozed off. She woke up when Sara tapped on her cheek.
“Sorry,” she said. “I haven’t been sleeping much.”
“I can tell,” Sara said. “Thanks for waiting. I’m ready to go back now.”
“Not yet,” the masked girl said. She led Sara to the city gates, up a thin ladder half-hidden by overgrown vines, all the way to the top of the wall.
Standing above the city, Sara had a good view of everything, from shops to alleyways to even the square she destroyed. Looking down, she saw the wooden gate with bronze rods supporting its sides. Beyond that was the moat, with little white dots where all the skeletons were.
Standing beside her, the masked girl let out a little sigh. “It’s quite a view, isn’t it?”
Sara leaned on the ledge. The wind ruffled through her hair was cold, smelling of rain.
“I have one last question,” she said. “It’s about Jack, about what he did.”
The masked girl joined her looking out across the vast fields of grass. Soon, all of it will be overturned to hide the mines. Sara wondered if it bothered the girl to see her city assaulted.
“His actions were influenced by a desire we all have.” The masked girl spoke softly, her voice light as the sun through heavy clouds. “He wasn’t the only one. All of us, even those who have settled and started eateries, all dreamed and fought for the same thing at one point or another.” She turned to Sara, and for the first time, her emotions seemed too great to be hidden.
“Home, Sara. We want to go home.”