22. Timas
Chapter 22
Timas
T he moon sits high in the sky as we prepare to leave. Emilia comes out with something wrapped in her hands. I open my arms for her to walk into, and she does so gladly.
“What do you have there, my flower?” Popping her head up to look at me, with the item she carries scrunched between us, she says,
“It’s a cloak for Father. It’s a bit cold flying, and I wanted him to be warm.” Her thoughtfulness, in turn, warms me .
“We’ll take it with us.” She ducks her head against my chest with a smile on her face.
“Thank you.”
With everything sorted and a plan to meet our contact outside the city, I kiss Emilia one last time and set off for Ezuren. Garrick grumbles as Milori directs him to one of the Noble Guards to be carried by. The two of them act like they have known each other for years, although they are newly acquainted. However, Milori is good at breaking down people’s barriers and forcing himself in .
The night is extremely dark. There are no stars in the sky to add any light, and clouds partially cover the moon. The entire flight, I thought about what was to come. Ideally, we will be able to go in quietly and leave quietly. I have no desire to destroy a city. From what the scout said, there is an unguarded entrance into the city through the water system. A wall surrounds the city, and only two main entrances allow access to the city, which are both heavily guarded. Though I would prefer not to wade through the water, it is far more ideal than trying to go unnoticed at the gates or trying to avoid the watchmen who walk the ramparts.
In the distance, I can see lights that spread across the dark sky: our destination is in sight. We will meet the Southern Orc contact outside the city in an apple Orchard. The group flies in a staggered pattern with five guards, Milori, myself, and Garrick, still being carried begrudgingly. Milori takes a sharp turn and descends into a dark, clouded area. The closer we get, the more branches start to materialize. The quiet sound of eight sets of feet land in the middle of the Orchard. Milori hand signals to have the men fan out. The area is silent, and there is no light nearby to brighten the space, but the just-visible moon provides a dim outline of the trees. A cool breeze flows through the trees, and a large figure enters the clearing. He is far quieter than I was expecting. Orcs aren’t known for their agility or ability to nimbly go from place to place like the Fae, so my surprise at his appearance isn’t unwarranted .
“King Timas?” The deep voice and the large figure immediately tell me he is an Orc, and the only reasonable assumption is that this is our contact.
“Yes. You are to help us get inside?” He walks closer to me, his appearance becoming clearer. He is wearing a heavy leather apron and a fairly torn-up shirt. It’s a common theme to have Orc spies as the blacksmith. I remember that I need to have the blacksmith in Sonas investigated after this.
“We don’t have long. The guard rotation will change just before dawn. The ones on duty now are tired and will more than likely be sleeping.” He is gruff and to the point, which would aggravate me in another situation, but right now, I want to get this over with so I can get back to Emilia. The itching under my skin is starting to irritate me, and an anxious feeling in my stomach flared the moment we took off. If I didn’t know any better, I would think the bond between Emilia and me was already complete, but I can’t see how that would be possible without the ceremony. Without the tying of our souls eternally together, there should be no way I can feel Emilia. Rolling my shoulders and slightly shaking my head, I try to refocus on the task at hand. The Orc, who did not introduce himself or give his name, turns around and starts heading into the night. Apparently, he isn’t one of the chatty Orcs. I look over at Milori, and his response is a simple shrug as he follows behind the Orc. Garrick, on the other hand, has more to say than my second-in-command. I may need to rethink the command structure for the future.
“Oi, Kin. Listen, I understand you haven’t had a lot of trustworthy interactions lately, but you’re leading the King of the Day Court into the heart of Ezuren. An explanation of what we will see and what to expect should be, at a minimum, what you should be doing right now. If time is of the essence, speak quickly.” Garrick’s tone is clipped and has a slight edge to it. Perhaps just following along would have been better than challenging the man who is supposed to show us a shortcut into the city. My concerns are immediately assuaged when the unnamed Orc turns around, crosses his arms over his chest, and gives a quick nod. I will need to study Orc customs because that is obviously not how I would have dealt with the situation.
“Gormash has kept a suffocating collar on the people of Ezuren for the past few months. As the invasion draws nearer, it becomes increasingly difficult to freely navigate the city. The guard rotations have been sporadic and, at times, hard to track, but after some time, we have been able to pick up a pattern of sorts. As for the location of Dorgan Zurak, he is being held in the inner city, which is also surrounded by a thick stone wall. This will not be an simple task to get in and back out again. The inner city is for those closest to Gormash–it has its own private taverns and blacksmith, which is currently being run by Dorgan Zurak. He is not in good health, as far as we can tell. They restrict his diet to enough to keep him alive and working and they are working him hard. He is unnaturally thin for an Orc, but he pushes through, no doubt, to keep his daughter alive. If he resists or acts up in any way, they beat him. If that doesn’t work, they threaten a daughter he has, saying they will kill her if he doesn’t keep working or being quiet, in some cases. We were able to get a message to him, telling him to expect company tonight. If that’s enough explanation , let us go and help him." With another tight nod, he turns and heads back into the darkness. Garrick trails behind, his shoulders tense. A wave of heat flows through me, thinking about the Orcs who threatened my Emilia. I hope they are the ones guarding him tonight.
The unnamed Orc leads us to a grated hole in the city’s wall. It seems a bit small for an oversized Orc to fit through, but he surprises me, not for the first time tonight, by pulling the grate off and crawling into the hole. Each of us follows behind him, crawling on our hands and knees until we reach an area in which we can’t quite stand, but can at least crouch. We aren’t in the tunnel long before we hit a wall with a ladder going to the street. Quietly, we follow until we are all on the street level behind a dilapidated home. From the window, moderately lit up by a light inside, another Orc looks out. He must be able to see us because he nods to the Orc leading us. Something passes between them before we set off down a narrow alleyway behind a row of buildings just as run-down as the house we came up behind. The Noble Guard vigilantly looks at and assesses every street light, alleyway, and drunken patron roaming the streets. The Guard flanks me while Milori and Garrick walk ahead. Fifteen minutes of weaving between buildings and hiding in the shadows finally leads us to another wall within the city. Just like the Orc said, it’s a city inside of a city with its own thick wall and a single gate going in and out. My heart beats a little bit faster, anticipating the fight ahead of us, but taking deep breaths and focusing on the immediate task of getting into this section of the city takes precedence.
The Orc walks right up to the main gate. Confused, I scan our surroundings to check for any potential threats or if the Orc is leading us into a trap. The Noble Guard senses the change and also takes in our surroundings. A quick whistle goes out into the night, sparking the power within me. If this Orc has set us up, he will be the first one I kill. A quick whistle is returned, and the side door beside the gate opens. The nameless Orc gestures towards the door, indicating to proceed. He enters first, and although I’m still waiting for a trap, crossing over seems as quiet as before. The inner city is less crowded, with fewer buildings. There’s a guardhouse and a courtyard with a stage and sharp tools. Glancing at the gruesome display, I decide I don’t want to guess what the tools are for. The main building, which looks more like a fortified castle, looms in front of us and just off to the right sits a building with a forge in front. Orcy, because calling him an unnamed Orc is starting to bother me, leads us in the shadows behind a handful of buildings to the right. We come to the edge of a building and see an open space between where we are and where the blacksmith is.
A guard lazily sits on a chair beside the door, foot crossed over his knee as he nods off. Milori steps in front of Orcy and decidedly takes over this portion of the rescue. Milori motions for two of the Guard to circle around the back of the building and sends one to the side of the blacksmith facing us. The one in front walks, with no sound, to the Orc sitting guard. A soft white glow comes from his hand, and, reaching toward his chest, he pulls. The Orc guard quickly wakes up and clutches his throat, but before too much noise is made, the Fae Guard has twisted and snapped his neck. He can manipulate air and can take the air from one’s lungs. It was not the best way to die, but breaking his neck made sure he didn’t suffer long. Quietly righting him in the chair, he looks over his shoulder, and Milori leads the rest of us across the open space.
Orcy trails behind us with Garrick. The look on his face shows his shock at the efficiency of my Guard. This is nothing compared to what they are fully capable of, but he doesn’t need to know that. The front door to the blacksmith is opened as we file in. Light comes from a small room to the right and a door to the left. Orcy motions to the door, which likely leads down to the basement where Zornak is being held. I look at Milori and indicate I am heading that way. With a nod of acknowledgement, I quietly walk to the door. It creaks slightly, but the muted thumping noise behind me likely means Milori took care of whatever (or whomever) was in the room. I descend a dark set of stairs with Garrick following me. The stairs turn at a corner, and another door sits before me. My power thrums underneath my skin, causing my markings to glow slightly. Zornak is likely behind this door, but so is another guard or two–whatever happens, I need to act quickly and decisively. Opening the door, a single light sits on a table in the corner, and just as I suspected, a guard sits there. He’s nearly asleep, but the noise of opening the door brings him to attention. His eyes widen in shock and he grabs at his sword. Power deep inside me roars to life. Trying to control how much the ground shakes, I shoot out my hand, sending electricity through the Orc’s body. He convulses from the shock, giving me time to get closer to ending his life. Before I make it to him, a sharp pain pierces my side, and though I can barely feel pain in this heightened state, I notice it. I was too preoccupied with the one enemy that I didn’t take in the rest of the room to see another Orc coming out of the shadows, striking me in the side. Garrick jumps in and grabs him from behind, wrestling him, but ends up twisted around and is in a headlock in front of the guard. I reach out and throw the offending Orc at the wall, giving Garrick enough time to send his fist into his torso and begin eviscerating his face.
Turning back to the initial Orc I had attacked, I find him on the ground, shaking but trying to push himself up off the floor. Before he makes it up, I deliver a swift kick and send him into the wall, giving me plenty of time to pull out my dagger and drive it into his heart. Ripples of lightning jump off my skin. I need to be careful–if I let too much power out, then I will call a storm of great magnitude to this location, burning everything in sight. Breathing heavily, I look around the room again and find a man sitting on a thin mat, chained by his feet to the wall behind him. By now, Garrick has finished off the other guard and races over to the sickly man .
“Father!” Garrick lands on his knees before his father; his voice hitched with restrained emotion. The man, Zornak, reaches out and wraps his arms around Garrick. I was under the impression that they are not a physically affectionate race, but apparently, I am misinformed.
“Garrick, my son. Are you alright?” He pushes him back, inspecting his face and body, taking in every cut, scratch and bruise he sustained from attacking the other guard.
“I’m fine, Father, but you aren’t.” A pang of jealousy shoots through me. Though I had a good father, he never looked at me with such care as Zornak looks at his son. How much more so will he be glad to see my Emilia? Garrick’s observation is correct. His thin and frail body has sustained many injuries. It’s a wonder he is able to sit up properly.
“The key–we need to find the key.” Before Garrick can get up to rummage through this dark and dirty basement, I walk over and place my hand on the metal around his ankles. The magnitude of strength I pull from the earth courses through my arm and down my hand, snapping the metal easily. Zornak looks up at me then with a curious eye.
“A Fae man here to rescue an insignificant Orc. How the days have changed.”
“You are not insignificant to my spirit bond. If you are important to her, you are important to me.” His eyes widen in shock, appraising me again, likely assessing my worthiness for his daughter. He turns to look at Garrick, who is pulling the chains out from around his Father .
“This is King Timas of the Day Court and Emilia’s spirit bond.” His eyes swing back to me.
“Well, I didn’t see that coming.” Weakly, he pushes up, trying to stand.
“Yes, many have been surprised, but surprise or not, she is the other half of my spirit and she wants her father, so I am going to take you to her. I don’t know how much longer we have. Are you able to walk?” Garrick supports his Father, but he stands and looks stronger. This man is made of more robust metal than white iron.
“I’ll manage. Let’s go. It’s been too long since I saw my daughter.”
Retracing our steps, we head back up to the main floor, where the Noble Guard is waiting for us when we reach the top of the stairs. Once Garrick and Zornak make it up from the basement, Milori looks around and makes a plan.
“The Orc that led us here has returned to wherever he came from. He doesn’t wish to be found out if possible. The gate is open and should be easy enough to get through, and then we’ll retrace our steps back to the water system that led us inside.” Slightly annoyed that Orcy didn’t stick around, I take in the sky–it has lightened significantly since arriving.
“Did Orcy tell you when the guard change was? If anyone comes here, they are going to see a lot of dead Orcs.”
“Orcy?” Milori looks at me in confusion, and I wave him off.
“He never told us his name. I had to come up with something. ”
“How original.” He snorts.
“Can we go if you two are done debating the man’s pet name?” Garrick says. Milori takes in Zornak and quickly changes his demeanour. Leading us back out the front door, we manage to get behind the buildings that will take us to the gate. But before we can reach the door, an alarm sounds, and a roar comes from the blacksmith building.
“They figured out their guys are dead,” Milori says.
“That’s it. No more sneaking around. We’re leaving,” I say, moving to the front and heading towards the gate. As the gate comes into sight, several Orcs pour through it, and I am beyond angry at this point. The restraint I have put on my power has pulled tightly at my skin–either that or my body craves to be near my spirit bond. It’s nearly impossible to discern which at this moment. My markings glow even brighter, and the ground shakes beneath my feet. The Noble Guard can accommodate the sudden change, but the Orcs can not. Most fall to the ground and some scramble to stay on their feet but fail. Lightning courses through me, the arc of power jumping off my skin. One Orc locks eyes with me, and pure terror crosses his face. Pulling as much energy as possible, I slam it into the group of Orcs, still trying to maintain their balance. A bright light explodes from the impact, and part of the wall crumbles to rubble behind them. I don’t even look back, knowing the Noble Guard will follow behind me, bringing Zornak and Garrick along with them. When the power that lies inside finally finds its release, it is hard to rein it back in–but I don’t want to rein it in. I want to destroy the people who have hurt my Emilia and her family this past year. Milori yells at everyone to follow him, but I’m not paying attention.
A large Orc comes running out of the castle, roaring at people to attack. The scar that brands his face and the fierce look on his face means only one thing: this must be Gormash. A wave of unbridled rage courses through me, sending a shockwave across the courtyard. I topple the barracks beside the sorry excuse for a castle, causing significant damage to its structure. The pieces fly and take Gormash to the ground. A feeling of justice builds in me, but I want to make sure he is dead. I would prefer to make his death long and painful. Turning my feet in Gormash’s direction, I am stopped in my tracks by the call of Milori.
“Timas! Come on! Emilia wants you back!” The mere mention of her name makes me halt in my pursuit of the man who has been tormenting my beautiful flower. I promised her I would bring her father home, and I promised I would come back too. Turning on my heels, I walk quickly to Milori, still standing near Garrick and Zornak.
“No sense waiting until we are outside the walls–we need to fly out now.” Two Noble guards gather around Garrick and Zornak, and we lift up into the cold morning air. The flight back will be challenging, but we have trained well and will make it back. Just as we get above the city, another roar of anger rings out in the air. Gromash has not been killed, which tempts me into a return flight. Arrows are whistling through the air now as ground forces use crossbows to try and drop us from the sky. They are easy enough to miss, but one arrow grazes Milori’s side. He yells in pain and begins to lose elevation. Maneuvering over to him, I get close enough to see him struggling to maintain his path. His side is leaking blood, and he is starting to look pale, a sure sign that the injury was caused by a white iron arrow. Out of anger, I let out a massive cry, which shakes the ground beneath us. In one swift move, I pull Milori from the air and carry him in my arms. He doesn’t fight me, which tells me how bad it must be, but he is conscious enough to make a joke.
“At least take me out for dinner before we cuddle.” His words are strained, but I pull a tight smile because he needs it, and I need to get him help quickly.
“You’re too high maintenance.” He scoffs at that.
“At least this will mean lots of ladies will want to come see the hero of the Day Court! Let’s not tell them it was a stray arrow that got me. Let’s say I jumped in front of you to protect you–that sounds far more heroic.”
I shake my head at what is clearly a coping mechanism.
“You are a hero, Milori. No one could put up with me like you do.“ A tightness pulls in my chest. He has been there for me for centuries, and I won’t let one single arrow be why I lose him.
“Stop it! Don’t go all mushy on me. That’s supposed to be the job of the many ladies who will fawn over me. Now, get me home, horsey–I want a bath.” Glad to see he hasn’t lost his sense of humour, I fly hard toward Dorron.