Chapter 22 #2
“I’m aware, and this isn’t me asking but telling you. I am going inside. You and Josslyn watch for perfidy.”
“If I hear even a hint of danger—”
“Then you shall come to my rescue. I know.” Avera leaned up and bussed his cheek, a first, but her affection for the grizzled rook had her no longer willing to hold back. “You are the most loyal protector I could have asked for.”
“Bah.” Gustav grunted but he didn’t stop her from entering.
The bright light in the chapel momentarily had Avera blinking.
As she took in the space, she noticed it lacked pews like she’d seen in other places of worship.
No chairs or even stools. Just a large open space with an altar at the far end made from an enormous bone with a hollowed basin in the center holding a puddle of dark fluid.
A lantern sat on a floor made of more crushed coral and shell sealed by a lacquer. The door groaned shut. Avera whirled to see a man standing between her and the exit.
A very large man.
He towered over her and would most likely be taller than Gustav as well.
His broad shoulders strained the fabric of his linen shirt while the sleeves outlined his thick arms. Hair dark as night crowned his head, matching his eyes set against his swarthy skin.
A distinctive coloring for a very handsome man.
“You’re Verlorian,” Avera blurted, losing her manners for a moment.
He arched a brow. “What gave it away?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just rare to see anyone from Verlora these days.”
“You don’t say,” he drawled. “Hadn’t noticed.”
She ignored his sarcasm. “You’re the captain of the ship currently docked.” A repeat of Gustav’s question but she had to start somewhere that didn’t insult.
“I am, and you are the missing queen everyone’s been looking for.
Her heart stammered to a stop. “That’s ridiculous. Do I look like a royal?”
His lips held a hint of a smile. “I think you look like the bastard daughter of Calixte Voxspira. Rumor has long claimed you’re half Verlorian. Your appearance confirms it.”
No point in lying. Her status might help the negotiation. “I see you’re well-informed.” She lifted her chin. “I am Avera Voxspira, Queen of Daerva.”
“It’s new king disagrees,” the captain said rather than introducing himself.
“Benoit is a liar and a traitor,” she spat.
“Odd because he’s making the same claim about you.”
“How would you know what he’s saying?”
“Because I make it my business to know the politics and news of the places I do business with. Those knights who arrived today had much to say about the bastard queen who had her family murdered.”
“It wasn’t me,” she huffed. “Benoit was the one behind it.”
“Says you.”
“Yes, says me! And I didn’t come here to discuss my right to rule. I need transport.”
“To Verlora.” At her surprise, he added, “Korr mentioned it to me.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Will you take us?”
He laughed, a deep baritone that brought a slight shiver. “No.”
“Why not?”
“For one, you have nothing of value to pay me. And secondly, no one with any intelligence goes anywhere near Verlora.”
“Why?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“Because it’s a death sentence.”
“So I keep hearing, and yet no one seems to know what is killing the people. Assuming they’re dead. Could be they simply cannot leave.”
His lips pinched as his humor faded. “They’re dead in a catastrophe that wiped out an entire country and continues to kill to this day.”
“Not everyone died. You’re here.”
“I am. Barely. The Verlorians who still live were either out of Verlora when events transpired or close enough to the sea to escape by boat.”
“Which were you?”
“The latter. My father’s last act was to have me evacuated with other children.” He didn’t sound happy about it.
“He died?”
“They all did.”
“How can you be sure if you were sent away?”
“I did not come to have my past interrogated,” he snapped.
“Then why did you come if you know I can’t afford to pay you and you won’t take me to Verlora? Why waste my time?”
“Curiosity. You are very tiny for someone who’s apparently causing so much trouble.”
“Only because you are overly large.”
“I am.” His teeth flashed in a grin. “I’m also curious as to why you are intent on going to Verlora. Don’t you have enough troubles to deal with in Daerva?”
Her lips flattened. “I do. However, I have a task I must accomplish in Verlora.”
“Mysterious.”
“More like complicated to explain. I can assure you that it’s very important I get to Verlora. One might even say the fate of the world depends on it.”
Once more his laughter rang out. “You are quite dramatic. I can assure you there is nothing in Verlora that can help you. Unless you’re seeking death.”
“Again, my mission is none of your concern. Will you take me to Saarpira, if not Verlora?”
“I could, but I doubt you could pay for your fare.”
“Surely, we can come to an agreement. Once I regain my throne—”
He cut her short. “I don’t do favors and I don’t extend credit. I expect payment up front.”
Frustration built. “You know I currently have little to my name.”
“I hear you have horses. A Volaqu of good breeding might be enough to convince me.”
“Give you Luna?” Avera gasped. “Never.”
“Then I guess we don’t have a deal.”
“There are two other horses you can have instead.”
“Common breeds. Not worth my time.”
Avera shook her head. “You can’t have Luna. She’s been my steadfast companion for years. It would be cruel of me to hand her over to another.”
“It’s a horse. It will adapt.”
“Luna is more than a steed. She’s my friend.”
“I don’t know whether to laugh or pity you for that.”
Her cheeks burned hotly. “Neither, if you please. My position was one that didn’t invite friendship.”
“Then who is that standing outside?”
“Gustav, my Grand Rook.”
“I meant the other woman.”
“My Duchess.” She paused. “While recent, I guess you could say we are friends.”
“A friend you dragged with you into exile.”
“I’m not in exile.”
“Says the queen hiding in this derelict city.”
A frustrated Avera huffed. “This is useless. I didn’t come here to argue.”
“Neither did…” He paused and cocked his head. “I do believe we have company.”
She could hear Gustav’s low rumble as someone confronted him outdoors. “I should help him.”
“How? Barbed words are no match against steel,” the captain stated.
“I’m not useless,” she grumbled.
“Not useful either,” he countered.
She would have argued further but for a niggling sense.
She glanced behind her to see the altar.
No one there and yet… She stepped closer to it and eyed the basin with the brackish water at the bottom.
The depression in the altar slowly filled with a dark fog.
It both reminded her of the white mist from the Spire and not at the same time.
Nor was it like the vapor from the statues she’d encountered.
This coalescing darkness had a thickness to it, and as it filled the bowl it didn’t spill over but rose.
“What is that?” the captain asked coming close to peek over her head shoulder.
“Get away from the altar,” Avera suggested as she retreated a few steps.
“Is it dangerous?” he asked.
“What do you think?” Her sarcastic reply.
Avera pulled her dagger even as she didn’t know how it would help against something without substance.
Outside, the talking turned to clangs of metal striking.
Gustav had engaged whoever had confronted him.
However, Avera couldn’t help, not until she understood the danger the fog posed.
Would it be like the white mist and turn those it touched into mindless puppets?
Or become a monster like the vapor from the statues?
Either way she should warn the captain. “The last mist I encountered more or less kidnapped people to serve a dark entity.”
“Better than the kind that poisons on contact,” he replied.
She hadn’t even thought of that possibility.
As her gaze remained fixated on the rising fog, she noticed it didn’t behave like the Spire’s mist. It twisted and roiled as it rose from the basin, coalescing into a shape with hind legs and arms, even a head with an elongated snout.
“What the fuck is that?” the captain exclaimed.
“A monster created via magic,” she huffed in alarm, her worry trebling as she realized there was nothing for her to break. No figurine or totem that she could smash to stop the attack.
“Whatever it is, I’m not interested in dealing with it. Goodbye.”
“You’re leaving?” Avera turned her gaze for a moment to see the captain with his hand on the door.
“This isn’t my fight, little queen.”
“Who says it’s mine?” she huffed.
“I’ve been inside of this chapel plenty of times before and never seen anything emerge from the altar, so I’d say it’s fairly obvious it’s here for you.”
The creature solidified, literally. She could see the fog hardening into a carapace. Eyes blinked open, the depths of them the deep blue of the sea. Its razor-sharp teeth reminded her of the fish she’d seen split open at the butchers only yesterday. Only this wasn’t a shark.
The monster stepped down from the altar and immediately more smoke began to fill the basin. Rising. Twisting. Taking another shape even as the first stomped for her.
The door opened, letting in fresh air and the strident clang of battle.
Perhaps the captain had the right of it. She didn’t need to fight but she should most certainly flee.
She backed away from the creature, pausing only a brief moment on the threshold to glance sideways to see Gustav holding off two knights.
One of them was still bleary-eyed from drink but the other fresh.
Josslyn was in the grips of a third while the fourth pointed his sword at the captain and shouted, “Drop your weapon.”
“I don’t think so,” growled the man. The captain charged the soldier, the metallic clank of their blades as they met discordantly loud.
Avera turned her gaze back to the chapel to see the monster almost within reach, and behind it, another stepped from its basin of birth.
Two creatures and a third had begun forming.