Finn adjusted his collar for the hundredth time, trying to keep his hands from shaking. He hated parties, especially the ones that involved General Fleischer’s high-ranking officers: he always felt like there was something going on beneath the surface, like he constantly had to watch his back in order to avoid getting a knife in the back. He also hated being the center of attention.
So, no: he didn’t want to attend a dinner in his honor that all of General Fleischer’s high-ranking men would be attending. He didn’t want to be within a hundred kilometers of that. But, he couldn’t really refuse an order.
“How is it that you look more nervous than me?” the newly minted Lieutenant Levegh stood next to him in their shared tent, fiddling with his cufflinks.
Finn sighed. “You don’t know these men like I do: they’re all snakes in the grass. And I think most of them want me dead.”
“Try to not take it personally.” Levegh checked his pocket watch. “We need to get over there. Are you ready, sir?”
Finn nodded and let out a sigh. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Thaos’ tavern was filled with men in the green dress uniform of the Gisken Imperial Army, that night. Polite conversation was had by all, and the wine flowed freely. The other officers in attendance all congratulated Finn and Levegh, but he could see the disdain in most of their eyes. According to tradition, one of the other generals in the army or General Fleischer’s son should’ve been next in line for his title. None of them liked that he’d picked a commoner as his successor. He knew full well that if the day came for him to take over General Fleischer’s position, it would be an uphill battle just to get most of them to listen to him.
“Here they are: the men of the hour,” General Fleischer said as Finn and Levegh approached the high table, where they were supposed to sit. “I suppose congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you, sir,” Finn said with a slight bow.
General Fleischer motioned to the two empty seats at the high table. “Please: take a seat, have some wine. Dinner should be served at any moment, now.”
“Yes, sir.”
They took their seats.
“Try to enjoy yourself,” Levegh said as one of the camp followers brought them their wine. “You’ve earned it.”
Enjoy himself. He knew full well that he wouldn’t be able to manage that.
How could he when, just meters away, Elise was preparing herself for the end?
***
Elise lay in her bed that night, listening to the sounds of the party happening just outside her door. She didn’t understand it: how could they manage to carry on as if nothing had happened? As if they hadn’t destroyed the lives of hundreds of people, that day? Hadn’t killed everyone she’d loved? It was as if it were a normal night for them, as if they weren’t sitting in the middle of a town in shock and in mourning. Because of them.
Monsters. Each and every one of them were monsters. And in the morning, she would die at their hands.
She knew that the thought should’ve terrified her. That she should’ve been crying. That she should’ve felt something. But, she didn’t have any more tears to shed, any more chest for fear to gnaw on. All she felt was hollow, empty. It was as if her soul were already ready to leave and join her parents. Ready to watch over her brother.
Part of her wished they would just hurry and come for her: anything would be better than the endless waiting.
***
Eza hid in the alleyway, watching the building across the street. Thaos’ tavern, according to Ulrick. He was standing behind her, pretending that he felt fine, but she saw right through it: he was hurting. Bad. The man could barely walk on his own. Could barely stand. She’d been waiting for him to fall over and not be able to get back up since she broke him out of prison.
“What’s the plan?” Ulrick rasped, his breathing ragged.
“Get in, get out. Unseen. You are going to stay right here and stay out of sight.”
“Eza-“
She turned around and glared. “Don’t try to argue with me. You’re hurting. You’re doing good to still be standing. I came here to make sure you got out, not to watch you die trying to be a hero. Now, you’re going to stay here and wait, or we’re getting out of here right now. Which is it?”
Ulrick glared at her. He knew she was right; she could see it in his eyes.
He sighed. “Fine. If you aren’t back in ten minutes, I’m coming in after you.”
She got the feeling that was the closest to a yes that she’d get out of him.
Eza adjusted the rifle on her back, still staring at the tavern. Finalizing her plan in her head. Stay low, and stay ready: we’re running the second I get back.”
Ulrick nodded, just as thunder clapped in the distance. Excellent: it was going to make her job much easier.
Eza backed up and began running through the back alleys, away from the tavern.
Her mind raced with information, a symptom of her mind-enhancing Blessing. It hadn’t taken her long to realize exactly what she needed to do to get to the tavern, and to the side of the house Ulrick said this girl’s room was on. Guards surrounded the house, blocked the alleyways around it, as well as all entrances and exits. Especially the front of the tavern, where it seemed that some sort of party was happening. Typical Gisken behavior: they loved dancing on the ashes of everything they’d destroyed. She wouldn’t be able to get to the tavern from the ground, but she might manage it if she came in from above. Like the wrath of the saints, themselves.
Eza pulled her patrol cap down lower and her scarf over her face. She hoped this girl of Ulrick’s was ready: she wasn’t looking forward to staying in Thaos any longer than she had to.
***
Elise listened to the distant thunder as it rolled in, watched as rain began to drip down her window. She remembered a time when the thunder and lightning that came to Caithia every spring had scared her, would send her running to her parents’ room. Ma would hold her, remind her that the Gods were in the storms. That the storms just meant a battle between the Gods and the devil. As she’d grown older, it became more of a nuisance: the more it rained, the more it turned Thaos’ streets to mud, and the more mud customers tracked through the tavern. That night, however, she clung to the storms. Wished that it would get louder, drown out the party with thunder, flood the streets until they turned into rivers. That night, the storms were home. Familiar. Constant. It didn’t matter how many people the Giskens killed, or how much land they conquered: the rains would come, the Gods would continue their battle. It was comforting, in a morbid way.
The thunder rolled, louder this time, as if trying to confirm those thoughts. Below the thunder, just loud enough for her to hear, was another sound. Something far more ominous than the quickly approaching storm.
She sat up in her bed. Was it just her, or did someone in that alley outside her window just scream?
Someone began to pound on her window.
She just about jumped out of her skin.
“Elise?” The voice on the other side wasn’t familiar. It didn’t even sound Caithian. But, at the same time, it wasn’t a Gisken.
Cautiously, she stood up and walked over to her window
Her heart jumped out of her chest.
She only saw one thing about the person on the other side of the window: the gray uniform. The wonderfully familiar, gray uniform.
The uniform of the Watch.
Elise hurried to get the window open. She didn’t dare allow herself to think of what it might mean: it was an impossible thought. Dangerous, even. If she allowed herself to believe it, only to have it taken away, it may just kill her.
She threw the window open, and a thoroughly-soaked Watchman climbed in.
Elise frowned. This Watchman looked like he wasn’t a day over fifteen. He was small, skinny, pale. He had jet black hair pulled back. His eyes were blue, in a way that should’ve been impossible. A scar cut down one cheek, narrowly missing his eye. Evidence of a life spent fighting.
“You’re Elise?” the Watchman asked, pulling his scarf down from his face.
Her eyes grew wide. The Watchman was a woman. A girl, younger than she was.
She sighed. “Please tell me you aren’t mute; I don’t have time for that.”
“I-I’m Elise,” she squeaked. “How do you-“
“Ulrick sent me, said we weren’t leaving without you,” the Watchman said. Elise couldn’t help but notice the annoyance in her voice. “Look: we don’t have time for introductions. You’ve got two minutes to pack a bag, and we’re getting the hell out of here.”
Elise’s heart felt as light as air. It was happening; she was going to get out of there. She didn’t have to die in the morning!
She grabbed her bag. The one she’d already packed when she and Papa were going to leave. “Ready!”
The Watchman raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything about it. “Good. Let’s get out of here-“
There was a knock on her door.
Elise felt the blood drain from her face.
“Elise? Are you still awake?” It was Finn.
The Watchman unslung her weapon and took aim at the door.
“What is it?” Elise asked Finn before she could stop herself.
The Watchman gave he a look. Let’s go! She mouthed.
“I just… wanted to say sorry. About earlier. I was a coward about how I handled things, and… it wasn’t right of me.”
If she weren’t in the middle of trying to escape her own home on the eve of her execution, the sentiment might have been sweet.
“I-it’s fine,” Elise said as the Watchman took her by the arm and began to drag her towards the open window. “Really, I-“
Thunder cracked. Far closer than it had been, before. It was nearly deafening.
“Is… your window open?”
Panic rose in her chest. “N-no-“
Her door clicked as he began to open the door.
The Watchman cursed. Elise had already fallen in a heap in the mud by the time she realized that the Watchman had shoved her out the window.
She scrambled to her feet just as a gunshot went off in her room.
Fear took root in her chest, her mind struggled to process what had just happened. Either Finn was dead, or her chance of escaping was.
The Watchman vaulted out of the window as shouting erupted inside the room.
“I hope you’re fast: I’m not slowing down,” the Watchman said.
She sprinted across the street, Elise following close behind.
“Ulrick, you better be ready to run,” the Watchman said as they entered the alley.
Elise frowned, looking around the alley. Nothing moved, and nobody else was there. Who in the world was she talking to?
The Watchman cursed. “Perfect! He’s gone and wandered off! Probably off getting himself shot-“
A bullet crashed into the brick mere inches from the Watchman’s head.
She cursed and ducked behind some crates. Elise followed suit, pressing her hand sto her ears. She felt sick: gunfire came from every direction, it seemed. She didn’t know much about fighting, but she knew full well that they were trapped.
“Stay low and start praying!” The Watchman ordered. “I could use a miracle right about now!”
Didn’t have to tell her twice.
Comments (0)
See all