Taming the Elements: Elwin Escari Chronicles: Volume 1 (26 page)

Any who wanted to attempt the gauntlet would get a single try. Feffer had seen several of his fellows fall before this point. One more step would take him as far as Gurndol had gone.

He closed his eyes and listened to the swooshing sound of the pendulums. Focusing on the one in front of him, he worked out the timing. He could feel the air become cooler as it sliced on either side.

Feffer took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He timed his step to take place the moment the blade crossed the beam. He had to judge the spacing as he moved.

The pendulums came back and just missed his front and back. His heart raced, as he teetered to keep his balance. He had less space between the swinging blades than the previous step, but he could just fit by balancing on one foot.

When he stopped swaying, he gave a long sigh of relief. The crowd’s voice became a single cheer, and they started chanting his name.

His heart pounded to the point of bursting, but with arms out to either side, he could maintain his balance without much effort. This was fire form stance.

Three more to go.

He pushed the noise from his mind once more, and he watched the three remaining blades. The next step had been Gurndol’s last. None had made it past this point. And Feffer realized why.

The swinging blades beyond this point left no room to stand. Few children could squeeze between the next two falling blades, let alone a grown man. He would have to take the last three without pause. But each blade fell one after the other in rapid succession. He closed his eyes and focus on the blades as he had before.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.

They would reach the pinnacle in one direction.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.

Then, they would reach the pinnacle on the other side. Over and over, the cycle repeated.

He forced his heart to slow down by taking steady breaths. Mindful of the swinging blade at his back, he crouched just enough to get a strong start.

Waiting for the first swoosh, he threw his other foot forward, jumping for the beam in front of the final blade. Airborne, he felt the air from the first blade brush against his back as he moved past the second blade. He passed the final blade and landed on the beam just as it made its decent.

He felt the force of the blade hit the heel of his back foot before he could pull it clear. Raising onto the ball of his foot, he used the force of the blow to spin around to face the swinging blades. Cool air brushed his face as he turned.

Using his spinning foot, he kicked the top side of the beam in an attempt to balance his body. But, his balance was too far forward. The mud pit loomed below. Rather than trying to regain his balance, he dropped. Turning in the air, he grabbed the side of the beam. He hung for a moment, stunned. Then, he swung his feet and heaved to pull his midsection up to the beam. He stepped atop the beam, stood, and thrust his fists into the air.

Three hundred or more soldiers cheered.

Feffer felt himself smiling, and then he spotted Wilton leaning against the fence on the far side of the training yard, next to the outer gate. He hadn’t seen his brother in over six months. The last word Wilton had left for Feffer, a mission had taken him off-island. Something to do with the northern isles.

Even at this distance, his brother’s face looked pale and his hair a mess. But, he nodded in approval as their eyes touched. Feffer smiled and waved to his brother.

Wilton looked away and began walking toward the open gate.

Feffer dropped from the high beam and rolled as his feet touched the ground. He came up in a run, moving toward the gate. The other soldiers patted him none too gently on the back as he passed by. Everyone still cheered his name, but he didn’t slow.

Feffer ran out the gate but stopped for a thumping horse cart moving in his path. He couldn’t see any sign of his brother until the cursed driver moved. Across the cobblestone road, Wilton stood at the opening of an alleyway. Both buildings were merchant stores, higher than they were wide.

He crossed the street, attempting not to jostle too many people. As he approached Wilton, Feffer almost stopped. He had never seen his brother worse for wear. Dark circles surrounded eyes reddened from lack of sleep or excessive drink.

“Are you alright?” Feffer said.

Wilton rubbed both eyes with one hand, “Yes. I just need a bit of rest. I will be fine.”

“Did you just get back from your mission on the northern islands?”

Wilton winced as if slapped. There was a brief pause. Wilton didn’t look away from him, but his eyes never actually met Feffer’s.

“I arrived in time to see your conquest,” Wilton said with strained enthusiasm. “Well done, Feffer.”

“It was a cinch,” Feffer forced a smile. What was wrong with his brother? “I could do it again and not get nipped this time.”

“I am sure you could,” Wilton nodded. “And you should.”

“Elwin and I are going to go back home for the Summer Solstice Festival. Do you think you can join us?”

Wilton’s eyes widened. “Elwin you say? When do you leave?”

“At first light,” Feffer said. “I know Da would love to see you.”

Wilton looked into Feffer’s eyes for the first time. They lacked the luster they had the last time he saw his brother. He opened his mouth to ask about the northern isles again, but Wilton spoke first.

“I have done what I could to keep you safe, Feffer,” Wilton said. “I am proud of you, and Father will be as well. You have a pure heart. I hope you always do. I want you to promise me that you will not try to be a hero in this war. If anyone asks you to be a thief-catcher, say no. Or take the training and disappear.”

Wilton grabbed the back of Feffer’s neck and brought their foreheads together. His voice was a tired whisper. “We are pawns in this life. Don’t die for a king who doesn’t even know your name. Promise me.”

Feffer felt pain from the grip on his neck, but he returned his brother’s embrace. He could not recall the last time his brother had shown him any affection. He said the only words that seemed to matter.

“I promise.”

Wilton pulled away, avoiding Feffer’s gaze. “I have something that I must do this evening, but I will meet with you and Elwin in the morning. I am looking forward to leaving this place.”

“That will be …,” Feffer began. He started over, forcing enthusiasm into his words. “That will be great. It will be nice to see our home.”

Wilton’s lips tightened into a smile that did not touch his eyes and nodded.

“I must go. Do not try to follow me.”

Feffer nodded. Try? He
would
follow him.

“Hey,” Wilton pointed toward the gate. “Isn’t that Gurndol, your squad leader?”

Feffer turned his head to see through the open gate. Gurndol watched them talk, but looked away upon being noticed.

“He probably just wants to meet yo—” Feffer began to say. But Wilton was no longer in the alley. He was simply gone. Feffer made a complete turn around and looked up to the roofline. The two buildings were close enough together to scale but too high to do so unnoticed in such a short period.

“That isn’t possible,” Feffer said. Then he thought about it for a moment and found irritation creeping into his thoughts. “Why in the abyss have they not taught
me
that trick?”

Feffer walked toward the open gateway still glancing behind to see some sign of Wilton. He wasn’t sure if he was more irritated at being dismissed by his brother or that no one had taught
him
how to disappear into thin air.

“Yup,” Feffer decided. “I am going to have to find out where he learned that trick.”

Gurndol met him at the gate but looked toward the empty alley. “Was that Wilton?

“It was.”

“Did he tell you what happened?” Gurndol said.

“What do you mean?”

“Curse it all!” Gurndol said. “He did not tell you, then.”

“For the love of Life,” Feffer said. “Tell me about what?”

“Wilton’s entire squad of thief-catchers was given over for dead,” Gurndol said. “The word is that they were captured by something called dark savants. Or was it black savants? Some sort of savant. Either way, they are all Death witches that use the Elements in battle. He was the sole survivor. Somehow, he escaped them in the night and stowed away on the enemy vessel that brought him to the coast of Justice. Rumor is, Wilton tracked them here.”

“No,” Feffer said. “Wilton said nothing of the sort. Don’t go trusting idle gossip.”

“I heard Sir Gibbins talking to Lord Lifesong about it. That Chai Tu Naruo named Tharu was there as well. They discussed while you traversed the gauntlet. Well done by the way.”

“He didn’t say anything.” Feffer shook his head, skeptically.

Gurndol clasped his shoulder. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you about your brother. I am not the boy I was a year before.”

“I know,” Feffer said. “I just … I don’t want to believe it. But he was acting off.”

His friend nodded. “Let us get an ale to celebrate our early furlough. All the guys want to buy you a drink. You get to save your coin tonight.”

“The abyss knows I could use a drink. Or ten.” Feffer’s heart was not in his smile. “I did save you a bit of running drills.”

“You did,” Gurndol started toward the barracks. “That is why the first round is on me.”

“I better sort my pack before we hit the pub.”

“Are you going on a trip, then?” Gurndol said.

“I’m going back home for the Solstice Festival,” Feffer said. “Want to come?”

“My parents would have me locked in the stocks if I did not make an appearance at their Festival here. Besides, I wouldn’t give up a few stolen kisses from a pretty face for a couple toothless farm girls.”

Feffer laughed, “Better a toothless farm girl than a nose-stuck city girl. You’d be surprised what a farm girl will do in a darkened hayloft. And we actually touch each other when we dance.”

“We touch hands,” Gurndol said in defense. “Still, my parents would not allow it. Perhaps, next time.”

“Alright,” Feffer said. “Well, into the night then.”

“Aye,” Gurndol cheered, “into the night!”

The night was darkest in the city of Justice for a man lurking through the Commons. Few lamp posts lit the streets, but none carried into the alleys. Unlike other parts of the city, no footpaths lined the sides of the cobblestone. Even the road itself was narrower in the Commons and less maintained than in the upper city of the Nobles’ and Merchant’s District.

The buildings were built atop one another in large blocks of various earthen stones. The slate tiles of most buildings needed major repairs. Between most blocks, the alleyways provided enough space for one person to squeeze through, but rubbish and rotting crates littered the widest paths. Some of the homes or shops had gardens, but few had fences to shelter plants. In the upper city, the footpaths, gardens, and alleyways would be gated, but here Wilton could for the most part walk uninhibited.

Despite the fact that the majority of thefts and murders occurred in this section of the city, this gave him a sense of freedom. For reasons he couldn’t say, he felt safer here than amongst the other soldiers.

Perhaps, it was the integrity that these streets maintained. The boarded up and barred windows warned off intruders. No welcome wreaths hung on doors, but the shadows held no secrets here. Predators lurked in them. The darkness held an unspoken truth known by all living here.

Given the chance, I will devour you
.

But few were those that would descend upon a man with raqii dath, the two curved blades on Wilton’s belt. He gave the hilts a familiar stroke. Wilton hated them. But he also knew he would not part with them.

“I’ll die wielding them.” He could hear the challenge in his voice as the words echoed back to him.

Fool
, he thought.
You don’t need a fight this night.

He strode passed the Ravenous Fray, a tavern known for its bawdy crowd. Light made dull from pipe smoke spilled from the windows and open door. A dozen men and half as many women made a circle around two men at their center. Sounds of wet slaps resounded over the cheers of the crowd. When he got his first good view of the fighters, Wilton shook his head.