Chapter 3
I’d never been thrown in a dungeon before, despite my less-than-savory past. Ainwir had always said dungeons were not a threat; hardly anyone in the Merchant Isles was executed, allowing you ample time to prepare your escape.
An easy claim to make, a harder one to follow up on.
Exhausted from the night’s events, I leaned against the cold walls, staring through the iron bars at the dim hall. The bleak sight was preferable to looking at the occupants in the bordering cells.
The shrill notes of a small flute pierced my ears. Curled in the corner of his cell, the man in the horrid purple doublet played a mournful tune, head cast down, concealing his face with the brim of his feathered hat.
On my other side, the priest I’d run into before the heist incessantly tried to talk to me.
“Are you alright?” The man with the sage-green eyes asked again.
Giving up the silent game, I stared into the cell to my left. The owl-masked man had been stripped of his belongings during our arrest, revealing his face. Gentle, with brilliant eyes, he might have been pleasant to look at had he not stolen my precious rock.
I sighed heavily. “I’m fine.”
“Good. The carriage tipping wasn’t part of the plan.”
“I’d hope not.” Narrowing my eyes, I scooted closer to the bars separating us. “What exactly was your plan?”
“What was yours?” He tilted his head. “Same as ours, no? Seize the Bloodstone in the one moment it’s not under guard, using the cover of the show and darkness.”
“I meant to merge back with the crowd, not make a scene.”
“They would have searched everyone the moment they noticed it was gone.”
I let my head thud against the stone wall. He was right. “I didn’t exactly have much time to plan. And it was impossible besides.”
“Mhm.” He agreed, the edge of his mouth turning up.
“First, the red-headed madwoman, now you. What’s so amusing about the life sentence coming our way?”
“It might not be.” He corrected me. “Executions are rare, but it’s always heretics who get them.” He paused. “Stealing the Bloodstone is most definitely heresy.”
Wrapping my arms around myself, I buried my head in my knees and started planning my escape. Maybe Laverna would never catch wind of my flight, and I could roam free, assuming I changed my name, dyed my hair, and wore a mask at all times.
Rolling my head to the side, I gazed into the darkness. Was there any difference between a dungeon and my previous life? Maybe being stuck here wouldn’t be so bad.
The same darkness, day after day. No escape. No hope.
Shrill flute pierced my ears, dragging me from my despair. Wincing, I glared at the gaudy nobleman. “Why did the guards let you keep that?”
He pulled the flute from his mouth and looked up, but his hat shadowed his features. “Do you not appreciate the flute?”
“Not right now, no.”
“Ah, it doesn’t suit the atmosphere, does it?” He grinned. “Don’t worry. You won’t be in here much longer. Right, Eleos?”
Brow wrinkling, I stared at the green-eyed man, who rubbed his nose and rolled his eyes. “You weren’t supposed to say anything, Perse.”
“Oh. Oops.”
“Wait,” I interjected. “What do you mean?”
A thin line of light spilled down the hall as a door opened in the distance. Footsteps sounded on the stone floors. Leaning forward, I watched as a woman strode into view, a lantern held up to dispel the pall, casting fiery light over her red locks.
The woman who’d stolen the Bloodstone stood before my cell, comfortably unshackled, dressed in a stylish charcoal coat. Baffled, I furrowed my brow and stared at her in disbelief.
She leaned forward, face obscured behind a plain white mask. “Eager to get out of there?”
Usually, I came up with retorts quickly, but I found myself at a loss for words. Instead, I gaped at her, unable to understand why she walked free.
Pulling a ring of keys from her belt, the red-haired woman unlocked my cell and pulled it open before unlocking the men’s cells. Shooting to my feet, I paused at my cell’s threshold.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
Casually pushing the other cell doors open, the woman glanced at me. “Someone has an offer for you. A job, in exchange for freedom.”
“Did they offer you the same?”
“In a sense.” The red-haired woman said. “Getting caught was always part of the plan.”
Still confused, I glanced between the men who’d been imprisoned with me.
Noticing my look, the red-haired woman smiled. “Eleos was worried you’d feel lonely if you were detained alone. Now, come.” Returning the keys to her belt, she strode away.
I remained in my cell, watching the woman’s heeled boots click on the stone, her coattail flapping behind her. While the gaudy purple noble chased after her, the man named Eleos paused beside me. “Are you coming?”
Nervously glancing around, I emerged from my cell and pursued the strange woman. “You thought I’d be lonely?” I asked, glaring at him.
“Yes,” he said softly. “You’ve never been imprisoned before. It’s not a pleasant experience.”
“And how do you know that?”
Eleos hurriedly looked away. “I’ve been watching you for some time.”
“. . . why?”
“Mistress Seraphim will answer all your questions.”
Seraphim. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place from where the memory stirred. I’d never met a woman of her stature and brilliantly colored hair before.
None of the dungeon guards stopped us. They nodded at Seraphim as she passed and watched me closely, but said nothing. We ascended the stairs to the palace’s first floor and turned sharply down a hall before entering a door.
A middle-aged man sat at the desk inside, dressed in beautiful red robes gilded with gold.
He raised his quill from a piece of parchment as we entered, dark eyes flicking over his guests.
Rising from his seat, he ran a finger along the bookcases lining the back wall and pulled out a thick, ancient tome.
Seraphim spoke words of introduction, but I already knew who this man was from his uniform. Lord Atropos, the king’s Archon. This was the man who oversaw the council and ran the country behind closed doors.
Raking my fingers through my hair, I tried to straighten my ruined locks, but a glance at my torn gown dissuaded me from trying.
Cradling the old book, the Archon approached me. “You’re talented. To have effortlessly blended in with the crowd and convinced everyone you belonged, with only a handful of words. To say nothing of that difficult forgery.”
“Thanks.” I cleared my throat. “I had a good teacher.”
The Archon raised his eyebrows and flipped open the book. “Tell me. How much do you know about the Empty?” With a heavy thud, he dropped the book onto his desk.
I studied the book, reading the faded lines of text and smudged drawings: history Ainwir had taught me long ago.
Everyone knew what the Empty was. Beyond the borders of the livable world, a great, unending void swallowed what once had been verdant.
With every passing year, the border of the Empty expanded, and the land we called home shrank.
Most knew only that nothing could survive inside the Empty and to stay far from its bounds.
“A little,” I answered. “Why?”
The Archon pushed the book closer to me. “Read this, then.”
Approaching the desk, I scanned the passages, but I was already familiar with its contents.
Life dispelled the Empty. Most people lived in the great cities, hubs of life that kept them safe.
Roads were populated with countless outposts; people surrounded you even when you departed the gates, for the wilds were dangerous, pockets of stillness that invited the Empty’s embrace.
A thousand years ago, the goddess Brizo sundered the eternal Empty and summoned the boat that ferried humanity from the still waters to the Merchant Isles. We lived in an endless cycle; when the Empty once again consumed the world, the Maiden would reappear and guide us to a new life, a new land.
A story the religious believed, at least.
Stepping away from the book, I turned back to the Archon. “What does this have to do with me?”
“We ride to the eastern farms,” the Archon said. “This answer is easier shown than said.” He nodded at Seraphim. “Fetch the horses.”
* * *
We rode from the palace under the cover of darkness in an unassuming wagon driven by a lone guard. The Archon was trying to keep a low profile, but was he hiding us from the city or the royal family?
I received no chance to voice my myriad questions; we traveled in stiff silence until we passed through the eastern gates onto the sprawling fields pressed against the city as though clinging to its skirt for safety.
Seraphim sat beside me, and the noble Eleos called ‘Perse’ reclined opposite us, boots kicked up, hat tilted down. The Archon watched me, his dark gaze unwavering.
Eleos grabbed a lantern from the wagon floor and struck a fire inside, handing it to me before lighting his own. Holding the flame up to pierce the night, I searched the fields for what we’d come here to see.
Wheat waved under a gentle breeze, windmills creaked against the night, and farmhouses stood silent, their lights doused.
Something churned in my heart, as a sense of unease mixed with aching nostalgia.
I pressed a hand to my chest, bewildered by the strange sensation that grew stronger with each passing minute.
Disturbed by the discomfort, I flinched and looked down. The night seemed to darken around me, as though all stars had been doused.
The wagon abruptly halted; the horse drawing it reared and refused to go any further.
“There,” the Archon announced.
Looking up, I gasped when I saw it.
An abyss consumed the fields before us, a sphere of darkness so deep the night seemed bright by comparison.
A thin red halo surrounded the void, shimmering like freshly drawn blood.
Where once had been sprawling farmlands, now a gorge plunged into the depths of the earth, where still waters rested deep below the surface.
This was the Empty. I’d seen it once before.
“How. . .?” I stuttered. “But the Empty cannot appear near cities.”
“No. It should not.” The Archon agreed, leaning forward. “Our time runs short. If the Empty can appear within the capital, it can appear anywhere. It is only a matter of time before it consumes us.”
Swallowing, I stared into the empty void, a great sphere of nothing where life had once been. “But the Maiden Brizo will appear, right?” I glanced at Eleos. “She’s supposed to rescue us.”
“Should we trust that?” Eleos said. “Should we wait for her to arrive, only to realize with our last gasp she had never been real?”
“The Bloodstone is proof she’s real, isn’t it?”
Seraphim reached into her pocket and produced the precious relic. It glowed red beneath the fire of her lantern. “Or it’s just a rock. And, as you said, it’s yours, no?” She tossed it to me, and I caught it clumsily.
Running a thumb over its smooth surface, I stared at the gem that promised me freedom, hardly able to believe it was in my hands.
“You said a job for freedom.” I gestured to the abyss. “What am I supposed to do about that?”
Eleos answered calmly. “If there is a means to stop the Empty’s spread, we are to find it.”
“This is Seraphim’s venture,” the Archon said. “When this appeared, she convinced me to aid her.”
“Then what was the point of the heist?” I spluttered. “To steal a stone you think does nothing?”
The Archon spoke up. “Even I cannot access the Maiden’s Bloodstone. Try as I might, I could find no way to convince the grand clergy to allow me into the vault without arousing their suspicions. Lady Seraphim suggested stealing it, allowing her time to swap it with a convincing fake.”
“Funny, hm?” Seraphim smirked. “That you were trying to steal it, too.”
Rolling my tongue in my mouth, I considered their words. Everyone feared the Empty, feared it would consume us. Suggesting that no salvation would come meant decrying the goddess and committing heresy. A crime that would see the Archon swiftly removed from his station.
“Surely the city knows.” I bounced in my seat anxiously. “You can’t hide something of this magnitude.”
“Oh, but they’re trying,” the Archon crossed his legs. “The people have been evacuated and asked for silence until the council finds the best way to break the news. But rumors already stir.”
“Then, convincing the clergy that action needs to be taken wouldn’t be so hard.”
Eleos laughed quietly. “You’ve never dealt with the clergy if you think anything less than the end of the world would make them change their minds. The Maiden will come. So it has been taught for a thousand years.”
Sitting back, I rubbed my eyes. I hadn’t given much thought to the Empty, not when the dangers of the city streets and the weight of debt occupied my every day.
“Seraphim and I have entered into an accord.” The Archon folded his hands. “She begged my aid. In exchange for her efforts, I agreed to clear her records and those of anyone who aids her. I have the king’s confidence, though he asked me to keep our alliance secret.”
I turned to Seraphim. “This was your idea?”
“I believe I’ve found a way to save us,” she said, “I may be the only one who knows of it.”
“Why do you want my help?” I asked. “All I can do is talk.”
“That’s exactly what I need.” Seraphim patted the back of the driver’s seat. “But there’ll be time aplenty to apprise you of the details. Are you in or not?”
Heeding her order, the guard driving the wagon turned us around, and we slowly rolled back toward the city.
“I’m in debt to the Guild,” I said. “They won’t take kindly to me leaving.”
The nobleman named Perse finally spoke up. “We know. World-ending chaos is their business,” he pointed to Seraphim and Eleos, “but the underside of civilization is mine. I can help you avoid them.”
I tried to examine his shadowed face to no avail. He was a criminal, that much I knew. Maybe he could help me.
“Why trust us?” I turned to the Archon. “We’re wanted men—setting us loose only promises we’ll flee the first chance we get.”
“Seraphim won’t let you,” The Archon’s hand curled on his lap. “I said this was her venture, did I not? Abandon your duty, and she’ll see your head removed from your shoulders.”
Casting the red-haired woman a sideways glance, I recalled her flaming scythe and effortless magic.
“Of course,” he waved a hand, “you’ll be handsomely compensated, should you succeed.”
“And, if I say no,” I said slowly, “I return to my cell?”
“Mhm.” Seraphim nodded.
“The clergy will realize their Bloodstone is fake,” I said.
“Doubtless,” the Archon agreed. “You should leave well before they do.”
Sighing, I gazed into the Empty, into its still waters, writhing under the discomfort of the mixed sensations pulsing in my breast. There was no decision to be made here. Only one option existed.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll go.”