Chapter 13
Orrin sat on the rooftop, watching Skyla and Marley dance around the makeshift arena from a safe distance. Stumps and logs defined a loose boundary as Marley taunted her.
“You can hit harder than that,” Marley said, grinning.
They had only been at this for fifteen minutes and Skyla was already panting. Hitting the huge man was like punching a wall of frozen meat, making her knuckles sore and red. That was even if she did manage to connect a punch. He moved incredibly fast. She wore clothes that fit Marley’s recommendation for fighting: slim-fitting and pocketless, her hair tied back in a ponytail.
“I’m just loosening you up,” she said. Already her brow felt sweaty.
“I thought you said you fought bullies twice your size.”
“Fought them, yes,” she said.
Not that I actually won any of those fights.
Skyla felt her skin prickle where Dona’s hands held her wrists, pinning her against the fence, the chill of dew running down her back. She saw the faces laughing at her, the pliers in Vicky’s hand.
She balled up her fist and let out a little cry, thrusting it into his chest again. Marley flexed for it and her fist bounced off. He was no longer laughing.
“You need to think about what you’re doing,” he said. “You’re trying to punch me up here. You need to think about what you can hit the most effectively from your own height. And always follow through. Put your will behind it. Don’t half-ass anything if you intend on walking away.”
He pointed under his ribs and traced a finger around the side. “Kidneys will make a man puke if you hit him hard enough.” He pointed to his throat. “And all you need is about five pounds of pressure to collapse a man’s larynx.”
He corrected the way she held her hands, demonstrating how to strike more effectively. She tried a few times until he seemed satisfied. She might as well have been punching a log; Skyla began to suspect he was simply patronizing her.
“Most men will crumple if you hit them in the knee hard enough,” he said. “It’ll make it easier to outrun them.” The edge of his mouth curled upward as he said the last part. She narrowed her eyes.
They hadn’t had many sessions together but already she could feel the effects in her hands and arms. She awoke sore in the mornings, rubbing her eyes with calloused knuckles. Marley liked to get up at the break of dawn to train.
“I haven’t seen Dale around lately,” she said, taking a break.
Marley only shrugged. “Maybe he found a job.”
“Maybe…”
She lunged and managed to make contact with the area under his ribs. Marley feigned a grunt and then smiled. He gave her a nod of approval as they rested on the wooden bench behind the pub.
It was a warm day with a cool breeze that rustled the pines and mussed her hair. Skyla was glad to not be cleaning for a change as she closed her eyes and let the air cool her forehead.
“What weapons did you use when you fought? Swords?” she asked.
“Newer fighters start with shields about so big”—he opened his hand flat—“The shields get smaller until you are fighting with these,” he said, raising a hand. The metal designs caught the sunlight and gleamed.
Skyla conjured an image of two men smashing their fists together. She cringed.
“Sounds painful.”
“You could say that,” he said. “It’s a good reason not to allow yourself to get hit. You go in all bluster and force, you’re likely to shatter an arm… You seem like you’re pretty good at avoidance yourself.”
There was a deeper question there. She looked up at Orrin. He looked back and squawked.
“I told you I’m from Bollingbrook.”
“I believe you,” he said. “What you aren’t telling me is why you left.”
“It’s complicated.”
Marley shrugged and stood up, walking over to the well. He pulled a ladle from the bucket and drank. “We’re all here for a reason. Not being philosophical. By ‘here’ I mean Lassimir.”
“I just didn’t have anywhere to go, really.”
To that he nodded. “The entire city of Lassimir is made of people that don’t belong anywhere. People who were banished from Bollingbrook, Rhinewall, Arist,
Newsac
…this whole city was built by outcasts.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’ve been here since I was your age… younger, in fact. Don’t remember much before that.” He wiped his mouth. “I remember a boat ride.”
“They had boats back then?” She grinned.
“Anyway,” he continued, “All I’m saying is that you can tell me if you want, but it
ain’t
no big deal.”
Skyla was silent for a long time. Marley took another drink. She listened to the trees and the birds above. She was filled with an overwhelming sense of calm.
“My mom is dead,” she said with no emotion at first. Then, as if a crack had formed in a dam, something uncontrollable and raw flooded through. Marley let her cry in silence, respectful.
The flood ended and Skyla wiped the tears with her palm. Marley offered a towel and she accepted gratefully. After a few more moments she continued.
“Something took her,” she said. “I don’t know what it was, but it was
huge
. It was like a shadow but…solid.”
“You mean like a black bear?” he asked.
Skyla took a long breath and tried to explain.
“I… can see things that are attached to people… shadows inside their shadows,” she said as if she were explaining it to herself. “Not what you’re thinking. Not this”—she waved her hand in front of her face—“I can see what people really are… things they don’t want anyone to see… does that make any sense?”
“No. Not really.” Marley fell silent. There was a horrifying moment where Skyla thought he would kick her out. But after a few more seconds he only shrugged. “So you handled your fights by what? Reading their minds?”
“There was this girl,” she said. “Dona. She used to beat me up in school. Bully stuff, shoving, pulling hair that sort of thing. She and this girl Vicky used to make fun of me a lot, me and my mother. One day I punched Vicky… I punched her hard Marley. I think I even knocked her out. She was missing teeth.”
“Good job,” he said with a slight smile.
“No. No it wasn’t,” she said. “They just came after me with more girls, even with Melissa, a girl I thought was my friend. Vicky had pliers. Said she was going to get her teeth back.”
He squinted at her. “I don’t see any missing teeth.”
“Melissa stopped them. She bought me time…”
“Where’d he hit you, Dona? Did he do it again where they couldn’t see the bruises?”
“I saw something in Dona’s shadow. I saw things her father did to her. Really awful things, Marley, things no one should know. And I said it aloud. I told them all what I saw in her shadow with all the girls there.”
“He makes you sit on his lap, doesn’t he Dona… You tell him you’re too old but he says you’re never too old and you do it. Every time you feel smaller and smaller. You sometimes wish something would happen to him, but it won’t.”
Dona, her face ashen. Victoria staring. All the girls staring.
“You could tell your mother but then she’d probably just drink herself to death.”
A slap. Dona trembling.
Skyla shook her head at the memories.
“Probably just your imagination—” Marley said.
“No, Marley,” she leveled her gaze at him. Her pupils were huge. “I know about you too. I know about you and Dale. I know about the fight, the promise he made. You weren’t supposed to cheat. Not on your last fight. He still doesn’t know how you feel about it.”
She froze as the mountain of a man turned a deep red. The scar went white.
“I… I’m sorry,” she said and looked away.
Marley frowned. “People don’t like feeling vulnerable, Skyla,” he said. “That’s why they usually strike out first.”
An image formed in her mind of how other people must have seen her: a mirror exposing every blemish that makeup and fine clothes couldn’t hide. She thought of the way she had so carelessly flayed open Dona for everyone to see.
They must have all been terrified every time I looked at them
, she thought with a shudder.
She looked up to see Marley standing over her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It should stay a secret.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I think we’ve trained enough,” he said with a smile. “You should get some rest.”
She went back inside to her bunk. Marley went inside shortly after. Neither of them noticed Dale who stood at the front of the pub, eavesdropping from around the corner.
But Orrin was gone. He never returned inside with her.
She called for him, but didn’t get a reply. She left food out but it only attracted raccoons. Skyla found herself feeling worse each time she stepped outdoors. Finally she had to admit to herself that he might really be gone for good. Dale tried to comfort her from the bar.
“Maybe he met a nice lady bird and they ran off to get married, or whatever it is birds do.” Dale nudged her and elicited a small smile. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Skyla. He’s smart. You said so yourself.”
She shrugged and got back to busing the tables that were slowly being overrun as customers began to crowd the dingy floor. She stole moments to duck outside and call for him, but it was useless. Orrin was gone.
Dale, on the other hand seemed to be in good spirits. When Skyla asked him what had him so happy, all he said was that he came into some money. He seemed very pleased with himself.
The door opened and she was surprised to see
Vana
enter. She wore less camouflage than before, but there was no mistaking that crossbow. Grown men twice her size moved aside as she strode across the room and sat beside to Dale. There were some hushed words between them and Skyla watched as Dale’s happy expression melted away like heated wax.
He shrugged and
Vana
leaned closer to him. His face went pale. Skyla couldn’t hear any of the conversation over the noise in the bar. Eventually,
Vana
got up and left, leaving Dale staring into his beer.
Skyla began to approach him, but Dale only got up and left the bar before she could say anything.
That evening, Skyla stared at the empty rafter above the bed, consumed in her own confusion and loss.
This is what you get
, said the voice in her head.
This is what you get for staying here instead of doing what you set out to do.
She felt a warm lump rise in her throat.
But I’m
happy
here. Why is that such a bad thing? Why can’t I just stay here?
There was no reply. The voice was right. She stared at the ceiling and then closed her eyes.
The goggles. She remembered how she could see Orrin with the goggles. She pulled them from her backpack and placed them on her head. Taking a few deep breaths, she pulled the lenses down over her eyes.
The world went black.
She was staring through a million empty windows of a million empty buildings, a crystal labyrinth of dried-up opportunity. Any random shapes she could see were like leaves blown across an abandoned gazebo. She sighed and removed the leather helmet from her head.