The duelist 12, p.16
The Duelist 12, page 16
“I remember a charming little inn just a short walk from here,” Sinopa answered, and the three of us followed him through the winding streets.
Mereid was a lot less grand and over-the-top than Medea, and I wondered if that was because West Alem was looked down upon by the Council and the Temple Order, which were on the east end of the Island. It was still pretty, but it all felt a little more worn out, a little more cramped. The cobbles on the roads were more uneven, and the buildings all seemed to slump into one another, like they were tired.
The ‘charming little inn’ Sinopa had mentioned turned out to be an inn, which was little, but it wasn’t charming. I didn’t know what the fox-man’s scope for ‘charming’ was, but it apparently included enormously-muscular mercenary-looking men with thick scars and very few teeth.
This, I thought as I walked in, must have been where Dagmar had come from. I almost didn’t remember the barbaric bully I’d fought shortly after coming to Aventoll. He’d looked human, aside from being extremely large and muscular, and several of the people in this inn looked similar. If not for their strange goat or deer-like eyes, which were only visible up close, I might have thought they actually were human and were just other Travelers.
“You got a problem, buddy?” one of them asked, and I suddenly realized I’d been staring at one of the largest men for several seconds.
And he’d noticed.
“Not at all,” I said as calmly and politely as I could manage. The man was sitting at a table full of other large men, though he was the biggest, and apparently the most short-tempered, because his glare was getting more pronounced by the second. “I was just, uh… admiring that scar on your arm.”
“This one?” the guy grunted, and he pointed to a thick, gnarled line that was slightly darker than the rest of his skin.
I nodded, and he rose from his seat.
“I got this in a fight with a little pipsqueak, who didn’t know when to mind his own fucking business,” he growled.
Ah.
Fuck.
I had about a second to process my mistake before the guy took a swing at me. I darted backward, and his massive fist missed me by a hair. If I hadn’t moved, he would’ve knocked me flat, and I felt the rush of air as his fist whistled by.
“Look,” I said to the guy. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just want to have a meal with my friends, I don’t want to fight you.”
“Too bad!” the enormous, Dagmar-like man snarled, and he took another huge swing.
I darted back again, and I realized there was going to be no reasoning with this guy. He was too angry or too drunk or too both to care about reason.
“Alex!” Bodin called out, and I glanced back to see the raccoon-man watching me with concern, but I waved a hand at him in assurance.
Sure, this brute was big, but I’d fought enemies larger than me before and come out on top.
Beside Bodin, Nemis and Sinopa were each watching me with more amusement than anything else, like they knew they were in for a show.
This encouraged me, because I knew both men would have jumped in if they really thought I was in danger, so the fact they were hanging back meant this thug was no real threat.
And after the past few days I’d had, I was eager to let off some steam.
Zoie had taught me almost everything I knew about fighting, and it rushed back to me in a flash. It had been a while since I’d fought hand to hand, and I found I was kind of relishing the chance to practice as I darted forwards and drove my fist squarely into the guy’s solar plexus.
The thug let out a dry gasp and doubled over, but it quickly turned into a snarl, and he lunged for me. I side-stepped and grabbed one of his outstretched wrists, then twisted his arm outwards until he was forced to fall to one knee to avoid the tendons in his shoulder tearing.
“I told you I didn’t want to fight,” I said to the guy in a light, conversational tone.
“Bastard!” he snarled, and he spat at my feet.
I twisted his arm out a little further until the guy began to wail, and then I let go.
My thinking had been that the guy would know to back off after I’d beaten him so soundly, but apparently he still liked his chances. Or maybe he was just a glutton for punishment, because he immediately jumped to his feet, caught me off guard, and backhanded me across the face.
I staggered back a few steps and raised a hand to my face to assess the damage. I felt a sting when I touched my mouth and realized he’d split my bottom lip.
“You need to be taught some respect,” the thug growled at me.
“Okay, then,” I said coldly. “If that’s how you wanna do this.”
The guy tried to lunge for me again, but I was too quick. I easily avoided his arms and drove my fist up into his chin hard enough that he rocked back and almost fell. He managed to regain his balance at the last second and let out a wordless snarl as he swung for me again. He overbalanced this time, and I grabbed him by the back of the head, forced him forward, and slammed his face into the top of the nearest table. He went limp, and when I let go of his head, he slid to the floor, motionless.
I looked over at the table he’d been sitting at, in case any of his drinking buddies felt like defending their companion’s honor, but they were all just looking at either me or their unconscious friend.
“Do we have a problem?” I asked them, but none of them said anything, they just turned back to their drinks.
I wiped my hair back from my face and walked over to where Bodin, Nemis, and Sinopa were still standing.
“That was quite impressive,” Sinopa said approvingly. “Unarmed combat is not especially common in Aventollian society. I expect that man was hoping to catch you out. More the fool, him.”
“You’re alright?” Bodin then asked me, and he pointed to his mouth.
I touched my split lip gingerly and winced at the sting.
“Some alcohol would be good,” I said. “To sterilize it.”
“I thought you meant to drown the pain.” Nemis smiled wryly. “But I’m sure you can use it for that, too.”
The four of us ordered food and drink, which was a welcome relief after the long ride out to Mereid. Sinopa and Nemis bonded over extravagant stories of their escapades, with Bodin and I serving as the captivated audience, and I found myself grateful that they had all insisted on coming along. Even though I knew the final fight would have to come down to Kavo and me, and I wasn’t going to risk putting Zoie, Shay, or any of the others in danger, I was glad to have some backup.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted,” Sinopa finally declared after we’d all had enough food and then some. “Shall we ask about getting rooms?”
“After what happened with Alex earlier, it might be safer if we get one room,” Bodin remarked.
“I agree,” I said with a nod. “That guy wasn’t really a threat, but there’s no telling who else has a problem with us. And who might be, ah… like Leda.”
Which was to say, who else might have been one of Kavo’s lackeys.
“A wise decision,” Nemis said gravely. “One room with four beds, then. And we can take watches, to be sure.”
“I’ll take the first watch,” Sinopa suggested, and when we all protested, he waved our comments aside. “I insist. I’m not as tired as all of you-- I rose late this morning.”
“Very well, then, but I’ll take the second watch,” the Captain announced.
“And I’ll get the third,” I added. “It’s better if we lose two or three hours each, than you both lose four.”
“In that case, should I take a watch as well?” Bodin asked, but when I looked over at the raccoon-man, I noticed how harried he seemed.
Being so far away from Vel-Rala was already wearing on him, and if I was being honest, I was a little concerned. He hadn’t been separated from the cockatoo-woman since before their marriage, and when you factored in the fact she was pregnant, it was no wonder he looked so worried.
“You just worry about getting some rest, Bodin,” I told him. “It’s been a long day for all of us. You can take the first watch tomorrow, if it comes to it.”
“Alright, then,” the raccoon-man said with a nod.
Sinopa went to arrange a room with one of the innkeepers while Bodin, Nemis, and I finished the last of our drinks, and then we headed upstairs.
I was immediately glad of our decision to room together and post a watch, because the lock on the door was, in a word, flimsy. I doubted the door would resist more than a couple strong kicks, and if we’d offended any more of the patrons downstairs, they would easily be able to come into this room if they wanted to.
But I was also too tired to really care about threats right now, and I flopped onto one of the beds with a grateful groan. Bodin and Nemis did the same as Sinopa sat in the chair by the door with his blade drawn and laid across his legs.
“You sure you’re alright to take the first watch?” I asked the fox-man, even as my eyes were drooping closed.
“Don’t fret about me, Alex,” Sinopa answered. “You get some rest. Nemis will wake you for your watch.”
I nodded and mumbled something vague before I slipped into the dark. When I opened my eyes again, I was wandering through a strange, silvery mist. It was so thick that I could only see a few feet in front of me, and whenever I moved my hand, it disturbed the fog and left wisps floating through the air, like paint in water.
“Hello?” I called out, and my voice echoed through the void.
I received no answer, no indication of where I was or where I should go, so I just walked forward. As I squinted through the fog, I noticed a shape began to emerge. At first, I wondered if it was a tree, or some kind of statue, but as I drew closer, I realized it was a person.
And one I recognized.
Chapter 10
“Alicia?” I said before I thought better of it and corrected myself. “Mercedes?”
Alicia-Mercedes looked exactly like she had when I’d first met her in Old Man Leary’s clock shop, which seemed like a lifetime ago. And, in a way, it had been.
Here, she was dressed like the statues Horus, Shay, Zoie, and I had encountered outside the Cave of Hearts. She wore the same billowing robes that fluttered in a non-existent breeze, though now she also wore a headpiece that looked a lot like the High Priestess diadem Leda had worn. It was nothing like the tight dress she’d been wearing in the clock shop, and I felt a momentary pang of embarrassment as I realized I’d been ogling a literal goddess back then.
“Alex Brightwood.” Alicia-Mercedes’ voice was soft and silky, and she smiled at me. “Please, sit.”
I suddenly noticed two small rocks protruding from the ground, and I sat down on one as Alicia-Mercedes gracefully arranged herself on the other. Even the way she sat was goddess-like, and she seemed to emit a soft glow of golden light, which wasn’t really a surprise from the entity who’d created the Sun.
“I imagine you have a few questions,” Alicia-Mercedes said after a moment, and she looked at me with a patient expression.
“More than a few,” I admitted with a sheepish laugh. “I mean, for one, is any of this even real? Or is this just a really weird dream?”
I peered around at the strange mist again, but it seemed to go on forever.
“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” Mercedes answered in a serene voice. It was a similar tone to how Vel-Rala spoke when she was Prophetess-ing, and I wondered if that was because Mercedes was speaking directly through her in those moments, or if it was just a coincidence. “This is a dream, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”
“Alright…” I said slowly. That was one of my questions answered, which just left approximately three billion more. But the most pressing one was the one I asked first. “Why did you pick me that day?”
“What do you mean?” Mercedes asked, and her blonde eyebrows raised slightly in a pleasant, but slightly confused, expression.
“In Old Man Leary’s clock shop,” I answered. “Why did you walk in then? And why did you pick me as… as the Savior? As the Stranger?”
I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when Mercedes just smiled at me and said nothing, but I still felt a sinking feeling in my chest. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy.
“One of your forebears once said an interesting phrase to me,” the goddess finally replied. “Another Traveler. He said, ‘God works in mysterious ways.’ I believe he was referring to a deity from your world, but I think it applies rather universally.”
“I have no idea if our god is real, though,” I said to her. “No one does. He doesn’t… make the Sun from his heart or whatever. Honestly, I wonder if… if he’s not just a story people made up so they’d be less afraid of the dark.”
“And who’s to say I was not the same story once?” Mercedes pointed out, and when I stared at her, she just flashed her coy little smile I now knew meant she wasn’t going to elaborate further.
“Alright, then,” I said. “What about the Alda brothers? Krev and Kavo? Why would you bring such cruel, greedy people into this paradise world? Why would you bless them with the powers of Ashers and face-shifting?”
“This world was not a paradise when the brothers Alda first arrived here,” Mercedes told me. “You have seen the Council, and the Temple Order, and the Isle of Hearts. Corruption ran to the center of Aventoll, long before the Aldas ever set foot here.”
I had to admit that was true. I’d seen the memory stones where the Ashers invaded the Old Temple on the Isle of Hearts. I’d learned how the Council Ousted the Lycaen Ashers, how the Order Cursed Lycae and Eng to preserve their status quo, the one that gave the Order and the Council near-absolute power.
“So you brought the Aldas here to make it worse?” I asked her. “Or… did you truly think they could have helped?”
I couldn’t imagine either brother ever being someone trustworthy, someone who could have been believed to be a hero, but Sha-Kane told me how Archus Doler had been a good man and his best friend once upon a time. People were capable of change, for the better or for worse.
Even so, Krev had several screws loose. He’d abused his own daughter, for crying out loud. And though Kavo seemed saner, he was no less malicious.
“Every hero needs a monster to fight,” the goddess informed me with a sad smile upon her beautiful face. “Every light needs its darkness. And even gods can make mistakes. The Moon never meant for the Scourge to be so powerful. He was blinded by rage and jealousy for how the Peoples loved my Sun.”
“So, if you made a mistake, why not come down from the skies and fix it?” I asked. “You gave Kavo and Krev their powers, you could have taken them away just as easily.”
Mercedes shot me a look, and I was very abruptly reminded that I was talking to a goddess. She’d admitted she’d made a mistake, but it was still unwise for me to openly criticize her like this. She was worlds more powerful than I could ever be, older than anything in Aventoll, and was someone to be respected.
“It would be nothing for me to remove them, yes,” she conceded, and her tone was gentle, like a mother explaining something to her child. “And I hate to see my children suffering. But I cannot be the solution to all their problems. They must learn it is within their power to rise up, and to fight. Against threats from their own world and against threats that came from other worlds. It is within their ability, if they are simply willing to try.”
I guess that made sense. People had to learn to stand up for themselves, and it wasn’t like Aventoll was a world of cowering, helpless children. It had plenty of fierce warriors, from Zoie to Sha-Kane to Sinopa.
“If I protested every hardship, forced the people to live by my rule, I would not be a goddess, but a tyrant,” Mercedes continued. “What is the purpose of free will if you are not able to exercise it? The Peoples must govern and rule themselves.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” I said. “With reforming the Council and stopping Kavo from becoming the Nightmare. But what if I fail? Who will be left to save Aventoll?”
“My dear boy,” Mercedes said, and she smiled knowingly. Her eyes sparkled like stars, and for a moment they weren’t blue, but black, and I saw all the expanse of the cosmos within them. “How quick you are to forget your allies. Do you think so little of their abilities? Do you think they would lay down their arms if you died, and concede without protest to Kavo Alda’s will?”
“No,” I said at once. “Of course not. I… huh. I guess I never really thought about it like that.”
“It is an admirable thing, to take on the hardships of others who cannot lift that weight alone.” Mercedes leaned across to rest her hand on my shoulder, and my skin tingled where she touched me. “But you must be wary not to take on more than you can lift, either.”
“I need to rely on my friends,” I said, and the goddess nodded somberly.
“I will not lie to you. The road ahead will be hard. You will face difficult choices, and your decisions will echo through Aventoll’s history for centuries to come.”
No pressure, I thought, but then I cringed, because even though I hadn’t said the words aloud, they had been audible.
“Thoughts and speech are the same thing in dreams,” Mercedes told me wryly. “But yes, I know it sounds daunting. And it is daunting. But know that I would not have chosen you if I did not believe you were capable of victory.”
I thought this over for a long moment. It was encouraging to know Mercedes believed in me. She was a goddess, so surely she knew something I didn’t, and she was confident I would succeed.
But at the same time… having a literal goddess counting on you was a lot of pressure.
“Seriously,” I said at last. “Why did you pick me? Were you watching me before? Did you know what I would do once I came to Aventoll?”
