Chapter 23 Tobias #3
Tobias cursed aloud. Drunken tomfoolery had been a considerable understatement.
The festival was too much—the noise, the people, the constant jostling.
He flinched as fireworks exploded overhead, then again as a line of people passed carrying torches not unlike those from the labyrinth.
Everything within him became tight and constricted—even his grip, apparently, as Leila pulled Herself free of him and stretched Her fingers.
He offered Her a muffled “Sorry,” and She nodded before placing Her hand back in his.
The phallion expanded as new revelers joined their numbers, throbbing like a beating heart.
A cart boasting acrobats and contortionists passed, and onlookers swarmed the carriage, marveling over the display.
Tobias growled as yet another person plowed into his shoulder.
He’d had enough of the festival. As he and the others abandoned the phallion, a group of people painted as spirits surrounded Hylas, whisking him off as they frolicked away.
“Hylas!” Leila called out.
She reached for him, but Tobias pulled Her into his arms. Resolute, She wriggled free, still searching for Hylas, only to be swept up by three women dressed entirely in flower petals.
Tobias lunged for Her, calling Her name, but another festival goer linked arms with his and spun him in a circle, thrusting him into a line of idiots dancing in the middle of the street.
Tobias shoved his dancing partners aside and tore through the crowd, heedless to their gasps and cries. “Leila?” His heartbeat fired off. “Leila!”
“What the hell are you doing?” Raphael hissed, grabbing Tobias by the cloak.
“Leila and Hylas,” Tobias said. “They’re missing.”
“I’ve gathered that, but for fuck’s sake, don’t scream Her name.”
“I go find,” Enzo said, weaving into the commotion.
“Enzo, no!” Tobias shouted, but it was too late. He’d already disappeared, yet another boar amid the sea of masks. Raphael dragged Tobias to a less congested corner of the street while Tobias cursed aloud, his frustration mounting. “We were supposed to stick together.”
“We’ll find them,” Raphael said.
“How?”
“Oh, hell, I don’t know. Just pull yourself together!”
“Random inspection.”
A red crest appeared in Tobias’s peripheral vision, and his stomach dropped.
“I said, random inspection.”
The soldier waltzed into Tobias’s line of sight, and he couldn’t help but sigh. How had everything gone so wrong, so quickly?
Raphael forced out an unconvincing laugh. “Come on, it’s a holiday.”
“This isn’t my realm, and this isn’t my holiday.” The soldier’s eyes locked onto Tobias. “Remove your mask. I won’t say it again.”
Tobias set his jaw, turning to stone beneath the soldier’s gaze. Despite his screaming impulses, he pulled the mask free and held it at his side. “What now? Are we free to go?”
The soldier eyed him up and down, the path of his gaze a soldering iron. The man couldn’t know who he was. There was no way. Tobias held his breath and waited.
“Just a few questions,” the soldier said.
“There are a million people on these streets at this very moment.” Raphael gestured wildly at the madness around them. “Why us?”
“King’s orders.”
“The king ordered you to stop me and my friend on this most sacred day?” Raphael crossed his arms. “Sounds like fuckery to me.”
“We’re looking for a man with brown hair, bronze Thessian skin, and a woman at his side.” As the soldier spoke, his condemning gaze was set on Tobias. “You seem to fit most of this description.”
Tobias’s muscles went rigid. “So do many men in this realm. Brown hair, bronze skin. Might as well add two eyes and a nose to that list. It could be anyone.”
“Do I look like a woman to you?” Raphael added.
The soldier’s lips perked into a sneer. “No one has resisted quite like the two of you.”
His sneer burned Tobias, a branding against his flesh. He snatched up Tobias’s satchel and rummaged through it while Tobias resisted the urge boiling in his belly, calling for bloodshed. The soldier looked back at him, eyes narrowing into a glare.
“Come with me.”
Raphael charged forward and kicked the soldier square in the ass, sending him plowing into Tobias before toppling face first to the ground.
Tobias spun toward Raphael. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know! I panicked!”
Raphael’s eyes were wide with surprise, as if he himself couldn’t believe his own actions. As the soldier scrambled to his hands and knees, Tobias slammed his heel into his chin, collapsing him once again.
Clapping broke through the noise. A handful of spectators had congregated, but most merrymakers ambled by, oblivious or desensitized to the violence.
This is madness. Something about the chaos became familiar—the bloodlust, the banners, the numbness.
Sunshine bled through the darkened night, and the surrounding shops turned into the walls of the palace arena.
The soldier sprang toward Tobias, lips bloodied and snarling, and he too became someone from a memory—Kaleo, or Flynn, or perhaps a fusion of the two.
Tobias dodged his assaults while his small audience cheered, then knocked the soldier off center, locking his arms around his throat.
The soldier floundered in his grasp, but Tobias tightened his grip as Enzo had taught him, until a hard snap sounded, sending the soldier loose in his arms.
Applause lurched him back to his reality.
Fuck. He pulled his mask back on, though it didn’t do him much good.
People had watched him kill a man, and one of them grinned before slurring “Fuck Thessen!” Even more revelers strolled by, ignoring him entirely.
Perhaps they were too inebriated to care, or combat was simply too common a festival activity.
Either way, Tobias was sorely on display.
He shuffled to Raphael’s side and spoke out of the corner of his mouth, “What do we do?”
“We need to get out of here.” With a grunt, Raphael flung the fallen soldier’s arm around his shoulder. “Help me.”
Tobias did as he was instructed, and the two men stood upright, carrying the corpse between them. Raphael shot through the crowd, forcing Tobias to do the same, and all the while the dead man hung heavily at his side, his head low and helmet pointed to the ground.
Tobias nervously scanned the passersby. “What are we doing?”
“We’re escorting a drunken soldier through the Festival of Pleasures,” Raphael said.
“We’re what?”
“He’s drunk. So drunk he’s fallen unconscious, but fortunately two good citizens are bringing him to safety.” Raphael looked him hard in the eye. “Do you understand?”
Tobias nodded, tottering as he struggled for balance.
This isn’t going to work. But he charged ahead despite his frenzied nerves.
A woman strolled up to them, and though he braced himself for battle, she yanked the soldier’s helmet free and planted it on her own head, screaming obscenities into the night as she skipped away.
Soldiers of Thessian and Trogolian blood alike crossed their path, and none of them seemed put off by his presence, some rolling their eyes or shaking their heads at their drunken comrade.
Tobias straightened, emboldened by their apathy.
If the corpse provided him cover, he’d use it to his advantage. He had to find Leila.
Crescent moons hung from altars and adorned dresses, tunics, and hats.
People wore crescent moon masks and rode horses with crescent moons painted into their hair.
Hell, there were crescent moons everywhere.
He’d known to expect duplicates, but only then was it so glaring. How were they going to find Her?
“Tobias!”
Tobias spun toward the voice only to find Hylas barreling his way. The senator’s eyes were wide and bloodshot, his skin almost grey, as if he’d endured hell in their short separation.
“Where’s Leila?” Tobias said.
Hylas sighed. “I don’t know. I lost Her.” He studied the soldier hanging between them. “Is this man dead?”
“Fuck,” Tobias barked, nearly dropping the corpse.
Raphael groaned at his side, and they opted to abandon their cumbersome cover, slumping the fallen soldier atop a bench beside a hopefully sleeping reveler.
Tobias raked his hands through his hair, his veins filled with fire.
Find Leila. His body was overwrought, but his thoughts were singular and commanding.
He tore through the crowd calling Her name, discretion be damned. He couldn’t fail Her. He wouldn’t.
Raphael grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. “Tobias—”
“We have to find Her,” Tobias said, shoving past the masses. “I don’t care what it takes.”
“Tobias, look.”
A series of decorated carriages paraded through the distance—another phallion, their beacon of light.
Raphael and Hylas headed its way, but Tobias didn’t move, studying the crowd.
He spied acrobats and dancers, sword swallowers and lushes, lovers fucking in the street and looters marveling over their spoils, and a single soldier hassling a woman in a crescent moon mask.
Tobias’s lungs froze. She had small white hands and deep brown hair tucked into Her cloak.
Leila. It had to be Her.
Tobias plowed through the people, his body a battering ram.
Leila held Her blade in Her palm, swiping and jabbing at the soldier to no avail.
The mask must’ve been hindering Her. Festival goers ambled in front of him, blocking Tobias’s path, and he paid no mind as he pushed them aside, eyes locked on his love.
The soldier grabbed the front of Her cloak and tugged Her closer, and when She fumbled Her blade, Tobias couldn’t fight the roar that bellowed from his throat.
A man in a reddish boar mask stepped into view, wresting the helmet from the soldier’s head and slapping it across his face.
The soldier dropped to the ground, limp at the boar’s feet. Tobias reached Leila’s side just as Enzo removed his mask, wiping his sweaty forehead before looking Tobias’s way. “I told you, I find.”
“Tobias!” Hylas ran toward him. “Tobias, they’re headed north.”
Tobias looked over his shoulder. Raphael was walking alongside the latest phallion, beckoning them his way. Finally, an escape. Leila wriggled Her hand into Tobias’s, and they headed for the caravan with Enzo and Hylas, praying for refuge in the north.