Tryal's Curse 21.1

Chapter Twenty-one: 
Running

Silence settled in the room like a thick fog. Evian could feel himself drowning in it, bleariness inundating his senses. Everything suddenly seemed so much stiller, and he was reminded inexplicably of the moment Luin had caught him out in Syti. Was it possible to run, now, from danger? What would the Blacksmiths do if they found him in the company of vampires? Moreover—what would /he/ do if he found himself in the company of Blacksmiths? Was joining them an option anymore?

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. If only he could run. Somewhere far, far away, where he could be alone—but for the ocean's salty kisses, for the feel of seaweed tickling his spine.

For as long as the silence lasted, Evian stood still, eyes closed. His hand had somehow found its way to the doorframe—then his shoulder, until he discovered he was completely leaning against it for support. Edith, he thought. Lira. He opened his eyes abruptly, ignoring the harsh light as it pierced his vision. He saw that the council had quietly gotten to work. Pedra stood directing them—telepathically, it seemed—and a semi-transparent, greenish screen was hovering above the table's polished surface.

It was a map of Adreitus. Evian gazed at it in wonderment. Clouds wafted above the screen itself, looking like wisps of dragon-breath; the fields and meadows looked as though sheets of cloth had been spread and tucked over one another. While Evian had observed enough oddities during his teenage years, he had never been so close to magic in its pure form. Suddenly, he felt suffocated by it. The orb, Lira's powers, the vampires ... this. He clutched the side of his head; his legs began to shake violently, and he hid his face in his sleeve as he struggled to breathe.

He had to get out of here.

Aidan turned away from the window, letting the blinds drop over it. His face was grave as he crossed the room toward Evian.

'You have to take your family and get out of here,' he said, in a low voice. 'Knowing the Blacksmiths, they'll be here any moment now.'

'Arrowroad is—' Evian began, but Aidan cut in before he could continue.

'Safe enough. We can't issue an evacuation, but the mayor's sent some folks to tell the townsfolk to barricade themselves in their houses—in their basements. You have to leave.' He gripped Evian by the arm, steering him out of the room.

'When—he didn't—I was here, the mayor didn't say anything,' Evian said indignantly, wrestling out of Aidan's grip. Aidan stood in the doorway, his lips pursed. Behind him, Evian could see the mayor—his bald head shone like a copper coin in the light and he was engaged in quiet conversation with Pedra. Both of them looked considerably ruffled, but while Pedra was at least maintaining some semblance of calm, the mayor was visibly shivering. He looked as scared as Evian felt. 

'You're a bit out of it, Threshold,' Aidan said. 'Stop panicking. C'mon.'

-

Arrowroad was a small town, but one surrounded by tall walls—fortifications from days of old, when it had served as a military base. Even after diminishing in importance, from a thriving populace to a place regarded with only vague interest, the town had been a respite for the king and his family. And so years had passed, but the strong walls and heavy gates had never been felled. Evian was hoping that these walls would finally serve their purpose—but they were old, and he did not feel that one could put his faith into ramparts and parapets.

It took them barely two minutes to reach Evian's house, with Evian leading and Aidan following close behind. Moonbeams sifted through the clouds, settling gently onto the roofs of the houses. Evian's house was a rather small affair; grapevines covered the stretch of the walls, hiding the peeling yellow paint from view. Several shingles were missing from the roof and chunk of wall looked like it was dripping in tar—a strange, black substance had been rubbed over it.

Evian saw Aidan eyeing it and quietly said, 'Edith's an artist.'

He nodded. They hurried toward the house, and scarcely had they reached the door that it swung open. A woman with long, curly dark hair stood in front of them; she had a bag slung over her back and numerous sweaters tied around her waist.

'Evian!' She sighed in relief before enveloping her husband in a hug. 'I sent Tom home,' she said. 'And we—shall we be off?' Pulling herself away from Evian, she caught sight of Aidan.

'Hel—oh,' she said uncertainly. Her brow wrinkled, an odd mixture of curiosity and fear settling itself in her eyes. Her gaze travelled toward Aidan's head and her hand moved involuntarily toward her own ears; unlike Aidan's, they were not large and pointy, or covered in bat fur. She shook her head.

'A vampire?' she asked, and Aidan nodded. Her face broke out into a sudden smile. She laughed and held out a hand for Aidan to shake. 'My word, Evian! Vampires—I thought you detested vampires!'

Evian coughed. 'Never mind that, Edith—where's Lira?'

'Inside,' she replied. 'I'll go get her.' She gestured at the men to stay outside. 'Be back in a flick—don't want to wake up the neighbours.'

But before they had taken a single step, Lira scampered out of the door. Edith nodded at her, before moving to lock the door. She slipped the key into her brightly-patterned tunic and adjusted the strap of her bag. Lira was clutching at another bag and wearing what looked to be one of Evian's overlarge sweaters—but in the darkness, he could not tell. Her eyes glimmered with alertness as she smiled at him—it was quite a contrast to the tired, bedraggled girl she had been but a few hours ago.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Evian's side—he tilted his head to see that Aidan had stiffened visibly, his facial muscles pulled taut, his eyes settling with something akin to joy on Lira's face. His gaze darted toward Evian in silent questioning. /Is it her?/ he seemed to be saying. Evian gave him a cursory nod in confirmation, before moving to take Edith's bag from her. She batted him away.

'It's fine—I've got it. The cart,' she said crisply. 'It's been prepared, I borrowed a couple of horses ... we'll leave out the back gates and be halfway to Alteria by morning. Evian...' Her gaze flitted toward Aidan. 'Your friend...?'

'Will be joining you.' Aidan said, a finality in his tone. 'We have to leave. Forget the cart, we'll take the horses, barebacked if they're not saddled—it doesn't matter. Come.' He gestured at everyone to follow as he moved to walk down the road. Everyone else followed in his wake, Edith looking slightly miffed at how a stranger had taken control of the situation.

She gnashed her teeth together, her hard gaze settling on Evian as they walked. 'Evian,' she hissed, moving forward to grip his hand. 'I don't think...'

'Edith.' Evian grabbed her by the shoulder. 'That man's a vampire,' he said urgently.

'No, really? I noticed.'

'No—the Blacksmiths, they're coming for Arrowroad, and—'

'Aren't you supposed to be happy about that?' Edith whispered loudly. 'The mayor issued a notice; Josiah came and informed me, so I got ready to leave, but ... I figured you might not want to.' Moonlight struck her face, throwing its planes into sharp relief. She looked tired and angry, the bags under her eyes like purple half-moons. 'Don't you want to? Stay? I can never forget, Evian,' she said, and her voice was thick with agony. 'I can never forget, and you were there, how can you possibly—'

'Edith,' Evian rumbled, 'don't you guilt me into this—don't, please, just don't make her a part of this. I've made her the reason for all my mistakes, and I can't ... do that here.' He shook his head, before lowering his voice to a whisper and muttering, 'I'm not happy—they might hurt us, and I'm not so sure anym—'

'Hurry!' Aidan called back to them, over his shoulder. He had broken out into a run, his feet thumping against the ground. 'Hurry!' he said, and this time his voice sounded strangled. The silence in the town was deafening, the houses grim in their sameness—like hulking black hills that cast shadows over the prim, straight roads. Evian automatically looked around for Lira, but she was already running ahead.

He tugged Edith forward, trying to ignore the dread that settled within his stomach like a heavy weight. It was hard to think of war when the entire town was in a state of lock-down; it was harder to imagine fire and plundering than it was to see faces in the dark. Evian felt like a coward as he ran—when he had let go of Edith's hand, he didn't know, but he felt alone, insignificant, and just plain selfish as he and his company turned down alleyways and headed towards the town gates.