Mrythdom: Game of Time (21 page)

She was a mermaid.

The mermaid broke eye contact with Aurelius and turned to address them as a group. “Is everything here to your liking?”

“Ay, if cramped quarters and empty stomachs be to a man's liking, then yes,” Dagrell replied, limping around one of the bunk beds to face the woman more squarely. “Yer charms'll na work on me,” he said, stopping with his face but an inch from hers.

The woman smiled thinly and made a gesture to one of the guards behind her. In a blur he flipped his trident up and jabbed Dagrell in the gut with the blunt end. The captain doubled over with a wheeze of escaping air as the wind was knocked out of him.

The woman gazed dispassionately down on the captain. “That is because I wouldn't try my charms on you if you were the last man alive.” Looking up with a sudden smile, the woman turned to Aurelius and said, “My name is Lashyla. I have been appointed to see that you and your companions are comfortable here in Meria.”

Aurelius couldn't tear his eyes away from Dagrell who was now staggering back through the room, making hollow gasping sounds as he tried to draw a breath.

Lashyla cocked her head and her smile faded. “Is he a dear friend of yours?”

Aurelius shook his head slowly. “No . . . an acquaintance, not a friend.”

“Good.” She smiled prettily. “I wouldn't want to have hurt someone that you cared about. Now come, these quarters are far too humble for guests such as yourselves. We will find a more appropriate place for you.”

Aurelius started forward on the wooden legs, but Lashyla didn't move. Her gaze flickered over the others present. “Are these men all your companions, Aurelius?”

He shook his head, and without thinking he pointed: “Just Wrinkles and the big guy over there.”

Lashyla hesitated a moment before she identified who he meant, then she beckoned to them. “Come, all three of you.”

One of Dagrell's crew stumbled forward. “We be a-stayin' in this smelly box, then?” He jabbed an accusing finger in Aurelius's direction. “What's so special 'bout him?”

Lashyla turned from the door with a winning smile. “He doesn't have a face like a troll.” And with that, she shut Dagrell and his crew inside.

Out in the hall Lashyla moved to take Aurelius by the arm and guide him back down the damp, dimly-lit corridor which they had travelled down only a few minutes ago. He was dimly aware of the electric jolt that Lashyla's mere proximity sent through his system, and he felt his mind swimming again with hazy feel-good sensations. He tried to fight it by focusing on his surroundings.

Puddles lay on the floor, shimmering with reflected light, their mirror-smooth surfaces giving Aurelius a clear view of the barnacle-crusted ceiling. The sporadic sound of water dripping down from that ceiling filtered through the noise of their boots splashing down the corridor. Aurelius gazed numbly at all the moldering remains of civilization.

His civilization.

There were broken lights, twisted bulkheads, faded signs, rusty walls, piles of refuse and rubble . . . It seemed like a battle zone.

“So, Aurelius, tell me,” Lashyla began. “What do you think of Meria?”

He turned to her and forced a smile. “It's incredible.”

Lashyla returned that smile. “Yes, it is, isn't it? But surely you must have seen its like where you come from?”

Aurelius eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

She plucked at the synthetic fabric of his flight suit. “It is obvious that you are not from around here.”

“I suppose it must be.”

“There's no hiding it. So tell me, what is it like where you grew up?”

Aurelius shook his head. “Where do I begin?”

Just then, Gabrian, who was walking beside them tapped Aurelius on the shoulder with his staff. “Ask her what happened to Gral,” Gabrian whispered, but in the next instant Aurelius heard the wizard's real concerns echoing inside his head, “
Be careful what you tell her, elder.”

Lashyla glared at Gabrian. “How dare you interrupt us? I was told that
you
of all people would know better.”

“My apologies, maiden.”

Lashyla huffed. “I am no, mere maiden.”

Gabrian cocked his head.

“Never mind,” she said, waving dismissively at him as if to shoo away an insect.

“I have been meaning to ask about that,” Aurelius said. “What happened to the trolls we brought with us?”

Lashyla was obviously fuming, but after a long moment she answered, “They were sent to the ringmaster, of course.”

“The ringmaster?”

“Yes. The ring is the only place large enough to house trolls, and besides, we cannot afford to feed them forever; they must earn their way like anyone else.”

Aurelius frowned. “And how do they do that?”

“By doing what they're best at. Fighting.”

“What?”

Lashyla turned to him in surprise. “Well, you are new to Meria, so I don't expect you to understand, but the ring is one of the few forms of entertainment we have down here.”

Aurelius shook his head. “You mean you make trolls fight each other for your entertainment?”

“Oh, not just trolls, men, too.”

“Men? Human men?”

“Only the ugly ones that no one wants. We don't send our mates to fight unless we must answer a challenge.”

“I don’t believe this!” Aurelius was shaking his head.

Lashyla misinterpreted his horror for wonder. “Tonight there will be a challenge, so you can come and see for yourself. You can sit with me,” she said, patting his arm. “I have the best seats in the ring.”

Aurelius gave her a guarded look. “Will Gral be fighting tonight?”

“Is he one of the trolls who came with you?” She shook her head. “No, they will be properly trained first. They won't fight for at least a few weeks, unless of course there aren't many other challenges before then.”

“I would like to see him if I could.”

Lashyla wrinkled her nose. “The troll pen is not a pleasant place. You wouldn't like it.”

“All the same.”

“Well, after dinner I suppose it could be arranged.”

“Good. Thank you.”

Lashyla sent him a quick smile and stroked his arm. “You are most welcome. Whatever you need, you need only ask.”

Aurelius contemplated that with a frown. Why was she treating him so well when she had treated captain Dagrell and his crew with such obvious contempt? Something strange was going on.

Twenty minutes later, when he was shown to his new quarters, he was more certain of that than ever. His room was situated in a tower high above the city, looking down upon the glittering, multi-colored lights of the coral. It was startlingly beautiful, and the room itself was both large and well-appointed. All of the furniture was still old, and some of it broken, but on the whole, the room was in far better condition than the rest of the city. Aurelius's chambers seemed a rival to even those of the queen.

Lashyla noted his surprise and asked him with a knowing smile, “Is this more to your liking?”

Aurelius nodded slowly. “Much more.”

*   *   *

Malgore watched the handsome young guards rifling through his quarters. He slept in a bunk room with half a dozen other vestals, and his only belongings were kept in a small trunk at the foot of his bed. The guards were busy rifling through the other vestals’ things, just in case. “You won't find anything.”

One of the guards looked up with a sneer. “Quiet.”

The old man smiled slowly. “You should have searched me more carefully,” he said.

This comment drew a look from both guards. Their eyes fixed on the glowing orb which Malgore casually produced from the voluminous sleeve of his robe.

“Hand it over,” the taller guard said, abruptly straightening from searching under a mattress.

“Certainly,” Malgore said, taking a step toward the man as he approached. The young man's brow furrowed, as though he had expected more resistance. Malgore walked straight up to him and placed the orb in his hand. The young guard was still staring into its luminous depths when Malgore whispered, “Blinda seru seer!” There came a bright flash of light and both guards cried out in alarm. They responded by dropping their tridents and clawing uselessly at their eyes as though to remove some unseen blindfold.

“Teru fashol ara meru!” Malgore said and then placed a hand on the nearest guard's shoulder. Then he whispered the command to restore their sight. When both guards had finished blinking away their blindness, they fetched up their tridents once more and started to close in on the old man, but while they had been blinded, a strange reversal had taken place.

One of the guards responded with sudden horror and confusion to see his wrinkled hands, one of which was still holding the glowing orb that Malgore had given him but a moment ago. The other guard took his partner roughly by the arm, while Malgore himself, now wearing the young guardsman’s face, came and took his other arm. Between them, they hoisted the old man off his feet while he screamed incoherently.

Malgore snatched the relic back from the old man, and the other guard jabbed his partner in the gut with the blunt end of his trident to shut him up. The man's protests died with a sudden
oomf
of escaping air. “Off to the ringmaster with you!” The other guard said with an ugly sneer. “Perhaps your sorcery will enable you to survive long enough to entertain us for a few minutes.”

*   *   *

The queen stared at the glowing orb in her hand, her delicate brow furrowed into a frown. “Well, it is beautiful, but what does it do?”

The young guard who had brought the orb to her shrugged. “I do not know most beauteous one.” His name was Martanel, or so she’d learned from Thorin, the captain of the guard at the ring. “It would seem to have no use apart from its aesthetic appeal.”

The queen looked up with a scowl. “You cannot possibly be that stupid. A gremlin mage would have no use for something that merely looks pretty. No, there is some great power lurking within. You will return to the ring and instruct Thorin the Triumphant to do whatever it takes to pry the secret from the old one’s lips.”

Martanel frowned. “And if he will not yield?”

The queen shrugged. “Then he will die—slowly.”

“As you command, my queen,” Martanel said, bowing deeply as he left.

*   *   *

 “Is there anything else I may do for you?” Lashyla asked of Aurelius.

Reven growled and patted his belly. “When will dinner be served?”

“Very soon. You can all make yourselves useful until then by helping the other vestals to prepare the meal.”

“Of course,” Aurelius nodded. “Just show us to the kitchen.”