The Curse of the Winged Scorpion -
Remenes
Assoon as Fantel disembarked from Vedeca she found herself surrounded by goblins.She towered over them; the tallest of the goblins stood no higher than fourfeet. As one they looked up at her from under their wide hoods, their smallslope shouldered bodies swathed in thick grey cloaks. Fantel stared down uponthe smooth white porcelain mask of the goblin directly in front of her; theimmobile features painted onto the mask were drawn into a permanent scowl – aneloquent expression of the goblin’s displeasure at the tardiness of theirdisembarkation. Goblins were ubiquitous in and around skyports all over Aldlisdue to their extraordinary strength and agility. Even among human cultures thatlooked down on most non-humans goblins could be assured of replaceing work inmanufacture, aviation, or any other industry where their dexterity andhardiness could be put to use. All the same they were not completely accepted.Hence their attire; humans were afraid of goblins true appearance -they foundtheir snub-nosed, lipless, furred faces and black liquid eyes unnerving – sothe goblins wore masks with painted faces to assuage the fears of the ignorant.They had also learned to talk with their hands instead of the needle-toothedmouths they were forced to hide. Fantel found this willingness to appeasebigoted humans shameful, and yet, of all the non-human races of Aldlis it wasthe goblins who prospered. Whereas the Chimeri isolated themselves from thenever ending march of human advancement, and the Ogdegre became nomadswandering the Battlan steppes, shunned and prohibited from entering most humancities, the goblins had flourished in the very heart of empire. Fantel foundthat she was not quite sure how to feel about that.
“YesI know,” Rashari had crouched down, almost kneeling on the metal grated floorof the platform so that he could speak with a goblin wearing a mechanic’s beltcinched around his cape. He signed with his hands as he spoke, apparentlyfluent in the fluid, swirling gestures of the Goblin language. “I apologise forthe imposition; I will of course compensate you for…” He stopped when thegoblin reached out a long, three-fingered hand to still Rashari’s movements.Then once he was still the Goblin pulled another mask from inside his cloak,this one only a half-mask, moulded into a perfect facsimile of a beaming grin.The goblin held the porcelain grin over the bottom of the mask covering hisface, replacing frown with smile. The two junior technicians behind himrepeated the gesture lifting their own painted smiles. The lead goblin flickedthe spindly fingers of his free hand in a complicated gesture. Rashari’s lipstwisted into a badly suppressed smile. “I am not always broke.” He grumbled.The goblin mechanic kept his grin in place but reached out with his free handto pat Rashari on the shoulder. He huffed and looked away, trying not to smile.One of the junior technicians rustled around in a rucksack hanging over oneshoulder. A moment later the goblin withdrew a small laminated card imprintedwith a picture of a pint glass full of frothy beer. The goblin tapped the cardand nodded emphatically, voluminous hood bobbing up and down. Rashari smirked.“Alright, alright; if you can get my girl shipshape within two hours I’ll buyyou all a round.” The technician shook her head, and held up two long fingers, foldingthe third finger (opposable like a thumb) down against her black padded palm.The meaning was obvious. Rashari sighed. “Alright, two rounds – and I want itnoted that this is daylight robbery.” He paused and narrowed his eyes pointedlyat the second technician quivering under his cape. “Yes very funny; a Raiderbeing robbed; very droll. I’m glad I could bring you such amusement.”
Thetrio of goblins all quivered with silent laughter; the rippling of theirshoulders and the shivering folds of their cloaks somehow more emphatic thanthe loudest belly laugh. The mechanic patted Rashari on the shoulder one lasttime before the three goblins passed him and moved toward Vedeca’s boardingramp. Fantel stepped out of the way of the frowning goblin as he passed her andjoined the others. The group of goblins then marched up the ramp and into theship, ignoring the odd looks and stifled gasps from the human women who stareddown on the skyport technicians as if they were rats scurry along the floor.Impulsively Fantel looked over at Rashari. He was frowning at the women. Oddlyhis reaction pleased her. It was one thing for a human to fear the Djinn orOgdegra –both races had bloody histories with humans – but to continue torevile goblins when it was they who maintained the infrastructure of humansociety – that, beyond mere prejudice, smacked of gross ingratitude.
“Isuggest we split up; the ladies can leave through the front and we’ll take theback way.” Rashari murmured jerking his head to the left. Fantel looked wherehe indicated and saw that the walkway turned to follow the wall at the back ofthe chamber before ending at a reinforced steel door marked againstunauthorised access. She quirked an enquiring eyebrow, assuming he would beable to read her question in her silence. He did. “We’re not so far theDha-hali couldn’t follow. They know me and, if you’ll forgive me madame, you dotend to stand out in a crowd.” He shrugged artlessly, careful not to move hisleft shoulder. “We’re all safer if the ladies blend into the milieu and we slipaway unobserved.”
Shecouldn’t fault his logic, and as she had no particular desire to stay with thewomen she had been imprisoned alongside. She agreed with a sharp nod. Theyturned as one and started walking down the platform. The other women hadalready joined the milling crowd of tourists and travellers alighting from adocked sky ferry, losing themselves in the collage of human traffic. She andRashari walked in silence. Their footsteps echoed softly along the platform.She noted that their strides matched; they kept perfect pace with each other asif they had already walked a thousand miles side by side. Fantel frowned,disconcerted not just by their synchronicity but also by the fact that she hadnoticed.
“Wait!”
Tamakiran up to them, her own feet thundering across the metal grating. She stoppedabruptly in front of Fantel, wide eyes skittering from her to Rashari and backagain. “I…er…I wanted to thank you.” She stammered cheeks going pink. Shetwisted her fingers together into a snake-nest knot of tangled digits, almostvibrating with nerves. “You saved me- both of you – and…and…I want you to know that um,” she trailed off, thedeepening blush crawled down her cheeks to her neck and upper chest, mottlingthe skin visible above the square neckline of her white cotton smock. Fantelmet the girl’s panicked eyes blankly waiting for her to finish whatever it wasshe meant to say. She did not understand the girl’s reaction at all. Tamaki wasfree and safe; she was back in her home city – why didn’t she simply run to thefamily she was so desperate to see? The moment stretched, awkwardly. Fantel hadthe uncomfortable feeling that Tamaki expected her to say something.
Rashari,leaning against the guard rail, looked up from his inspection of his wound, atiny quiver of a smile twitching his lips. Just as their silent tableauthreatened to drag on forever he pushed off the rail and spoke, voice brightwith bluff cheer. “Oh no thanks necessary,” he assured Tamaki before fixing hisdark eyes on her and deliberately moulding his expression into a mask of solemnsincerity so perfect it could have been etched in porcelain and kept in agoblin’s backpack. “It is enough reward to know that you will be returned safeand sound to your no doubt loving family. I’m sure they have been besidethemselves with worry.”
Tamakibit her lip, eyes tearing. She nodded. “I was so stupid leaving without tellinganyone. Father will be so angry with me.”
“Nonsense,”Rashari cut her off. “I’m sure he’ll welcome you home with open arms – feelingonly joy to have his daughter restored to him.”
Fantelcast him a dubious glance, not so much at his words, she was sure that Tamaki’sfamily would be overjoyed by her safe return, but instead toward his virtuosoperformance of sentiment. She wondered what sort of human could not merelyexpress a sentiment but instead must enactit like a player in a Dushkui masque. Still the act was enough to appeaseTamaki. Her smile was wobbly and wet but undoubtedly sincere.
“I…um…Iwas going to say…my father runs a tavern and…”
“Atavern, eh?” Rashari brightened visibly, the mask of solemnity falling away inan instant. He beamed. “Now why didn’t you say so before? Lead on girl. I’mparched.” Playfully he pushed Tamaki ahead of him toward the personnel door atthe back of the docking chamber. Tamaki laughed, light and girlish, but twistedto look back at Fantel. “You’ll come won’t you? I, um, I’m sure that my fatherwill want to thank you both for saving me.”
Fantelparted her lips to point out that she had not, in fact, saved Tamaki, or madeany attempt to do so, but Rashari beat her to the punch. “Of course she will.”He promised in the same blithe tone Fantel found completely impossible totrust. She was about to object once more but he leaned back and murmured lowlyfor her ears only. “We have things to discuss Madame Chimera – I ask only thatyou grant me a few more hours of your time.” His dark eyes were serious, no actthis time. Fantel hesitated. Ingrained habit told her to decline – to escapethese humans and their drama – but she hesitated, torn. If nothing else shemight gain answers to some of her lingering questions if she went with him.
“Verywell,” She jerked her chin, “But you had better explain yourself.” She strodeforward toward the exit deliberately choosing to ignore the pleased lightwarming Rashari’s dark eyes, or the way Tamaki’s smile grew brighter as shetrotted along behind them, gamely trying to keep up.
“It’sall just like I left it.” Tamaki exclaimed almost pirouetting in the middle ofthe marketplace clogged with vendors stalls selling bolts of vibrantly dyedsilk, meat skewers punctuated with slices of juicy apple, sweet pancakes filledwith berry compote, or apothecary stalls covered in hand-labelled jars filledwith vaguely ominous looking ingredients. Fantel twitched as she passed aseries of stacked wooden crates holding squawking chickens lined up behind afarmer’s stall; the loosely packed eggs and chicken carcasses attracting fliesin the afternoon heat. Everywhere she looked there was colour and motion; themarketplace thronged with people – pressing in on all sides. The flapping ofmarquee awnings in the warm breeze was as constant as a beating heart, creatinga resonant bass line to the hollers and caterwauls of the vendors. They wereonly five minutes from the skyport and already Fantel longed for the gloriousisolation of the open road. She gave another violent twitch when a horde ofgrubby children almost ploughed right into her, laughing and squalling likechittering monkeys as they raced each other in and out of the stalls.
Rasharisidled up to her, dark eyes amused. “Not one for crowds, Madame Chimera?” Heasked lightly, teasing her.
Fantelrefused to give him the satisfaction of a response. She simply strode ondeterminedly, ignoring him completely. Unperturbed Rashari once again felleasily into step beside her as Tamaki hurried ahead, impatient to be home. Theypassed by a municipal building and Fantel stopped to read a posted signproclaiming the upcoming Investiture of the royal princess of Tabris into theCloister of the Seraphim. Tamaki, scampering ahead, noticed that her rescuershad stopped and came scampering back again like a puppy straining on the leash.She glanced at the sign. “Everyone’s really looking forward to PrincessReniah’s investiture; we haven’t had a living Scion since the King’s brotherdied. My father says Princess Reniah will protect us if war comes.” She beamedproudly. “Not even the Adran Empire would dare take us on if we have a Scion toprotect us.”
“Don’tbe so sure,” Rashari muttered under his breath so only Fantel heard him. Sheglanced at him briefly before focusing on Tamaki. “Is the Princess not thefirst born? Why would the king risk her life to an Investiture?” Fantel knewthat Tabris kept to the old ways – the way of the Seraphim. It was a practicemost humans had forsaken when Phantasma energy became prevalent. What was thepoint in worshipping gods and looking to an afterlife when everyone knew thedead were burned up for fuel? Yet in Tabris the Seraph Cirroc was still reveredand the royal family had been offering up one of its own to the Investiture - ajoining between mortal host and divine spirit –for countless generations.
“It’sbecause of the war,” Tamaki answered her quietly.
“War?”Fantel asked, bemused. There was always conflict in Aldlis; the humans seemedincapable of living side by side in anything but enmity, yet she hadn’t beenaware that Tabris was at war with any nation at this time.
Tamakinodded. “No one talks about it but everyone knows there’ll be a war; my fathersays war with Adra is inevitableEveryone knows Adrans are cruel and greedy. TheEmpire won’t stop until they control the whole of Tybur.”
“Quiteso,” Rashari drawled his Adran accent somewhat exaggerated, his expressiondeadpan. “Speaking as a cruel and greedy Imperial – I don’t suppose we couldget a move on? My shoulder is killing me and I think that peg-legged beggarover there is giving me the evil eye.”
Tamakiflushed and ducked her head. “It’s this way.” She darted back into the crowdsthronging the market, cheeks burning. Rashari smiled crookedly, turningslightly to Fantel, his expression amused rather than offended, “After you,Madame Chimera.”
TheFirefly Tavern was in Old Town; an attractive conical roofed building made ofthe same red stone as the crater. Trestle tables sat under large parasols and aneat border of orange hedge roses lined the pathway up to the tavern’s frontdoor; the sweet scent of the roses mingled with the malty, earthy aroma of Tabrianblack beer. Tamaki ran ahead of them, shoving open the stain-glass panelleddouble doors. She and Rashari followed after the girl at a more sedate pace.The interior of the tavern was brightly lit by shaded phantasma wall sconcesand ceiling lamps; the ethereal light refracted through the faceted glass ofthe shades in jewel bright rainbows. The bar sat at the back of the room,mobbed with patrons. Round tables littered the stone tiled floor and a widestaircase curved up to a higher split-level seating area looking down over thebar. The warm, inviting scent of roasted meat and spiced vegetables wafted downfrom the upper level along with the muted clash of cutlery striking againstplates. A door to the far right appeared to lead to the kitchens. In the cornera small troupe of musicians froze in the middle of a lively jig as Tamakistopped in the middle of the floor. Conversation stalled and silence rippledoutward to the far corners of the tavern as dozens of pairs of eyes turnedtoward the door.
“Father!”
Athick-set human man with a head as bald as an egg and a bristled tawny beardrounded the bar, throwing down a wash cloth. The man’s expression wasthunderous, ruddy cheeks mottled with some strong emotion. His strong hairyforearms flexed with muscle as he seized Tamaki under the arms, lifted her halfa foot off the ground and crushed her to him in a bone jarring hug.
“Tammy,thank Cirroc. I thought I’d lost you.” Tamaki and her father clung to eachother tightly, both crying freely, unashamed. Slowly he lowered her back to herfeet and kissed the top of her head several times repeating over and over againthat he’d thought he would never see her again, and whispering thanks to Cirrocwhile Tamaki wept and apologised again and again for scaring him. Finally aftersome time the man lifted his head and raised his voice. “Meira, Phion - get out here!”
“Father– what - ?” a young woman appeared in the doorway leading to the kitchen. Shewas several years older than Tamaki but instantly recognisable as her sister.They had the same clear, lucent hazel eyes and thick, brown hair. The youngwoman’s eyes widened like saucers when she saw Tamaki and she clapped one handto her mouth in shock, her face paled.
“Meira!”Tamaki tore free of her father and barrelled into her sister’s arms.
“Hey,Mere – the soup’s boiling.” A lanky boy, barely an adolescent, appeared in thekitchen doorway. He was tow-headed with a round, unfinished face and a somewhatgormless expression, which morphed into one of absolute joy when he saw Tamaki.The resultant bear hug and jubilant sobbing was inevitable. It wasn’t longbefore the tavern’s patrons had amassed around the reunited family offering upback-slaps, hugs, arm pats, and words of glad tiding and welcome.
Rashari,standing beside Fantel, sighed and poked at the bullet hole in his coat,wincing as he pressed on the wound. “Do you think they’ll be at this for long?”His wry inquiry sliced through the happy scene like a knife. Tamaki’s fatherbroke free and turned toward them, the luminous happiness fading from his roughfeatures as he looked from Fantel to Rashari with slow creeping wariness.Fantel shifted her weight from her left to right foot and propped one handagainst her hip, watching the man coolly. Rashari stopped irritating his injuryand relaxed his posture, spreading his weight evenly between both feet – he wasready for fight or flight, his eyes keen and watchful.
“Fatherthese are the people who helped me escape.” Tamaki appeared at her father’selbow. “I was caught by a bunch of ropeheads – they were going to make me aslave – but Rashari and Madame Chimera fought them and brought me home.”
Thetavern patrons broke out in murmurs of dismay, and a flurry of questions wentunanswered as Tamaki’s father’s face paled with shock and fear. His large fistscurled tightly, knuckles whitening. Fantel saw the sister, Meira, press herhand to her mouth once more, her other arm clutched around her waist. The boy,Phion, stared at Fantel. She met his eyes and held them until he looked away.Tamaki’s father lurched forward, shock and relief making him ungainly on hisfeet. He looked hard at Rashari and then Fantel in turn. She noticed how hiseyes fixed on the blood staining Rashari’s coat.
“Thankyou.” He said voice gruff and harsh with emotion. “I’m Vasili Innis; my familyand I are in your debt.”
Fantelgazed back at him placidly having no interest in his debt or gratitude. Rasharishifted a little uncomfortably beside her and smiled faintly. She had thefeeling he was a little unnerved by the man’s frank and unwavering regard.“Glad to be of service.” He mumbled meeting Vasili’s eyes but with none of hisusual blithe confidence. All eyes were on them, the hiss of smothered whispersbiting at Fantel’s ears. The urge to dart back out of the door was almostoverwhelming.
“Father,”Tamaki spoke up breaking the tense and mounting silence. “How is mother – isshe better?”
Vasiliturned to his daughter and the focus of the avid tavern patrons shattered in athousand different directions, releasing her and Rashari from the chokehold ofundivided attention. They both released a sigh of relief, shoulders slumpingand spines relaxing. Fantel looked quizzically at Rashari who shrugged a littleabashed. “I’m not usually the hero of the story,” he admitted. “Generallyspeaking when I meet the fathers of distressed damsels they are anything butpleased to make my acquaintance.”
Fantelgave him a hard look, taking in his fine leather boots and his startling bluecoat, his dark eyes and care-free half-smile. She clucked her tongue. “Thatsurprises me not at all.”
If you replace any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.
Report