Love Lady Larla
Chapter 1 – Raised Fists
“The world is ruled by contrasts. Don’t ask me how I know.”
The thugs had the jump on her.
She had just enough time to raise her fists before the first thug punched her square in the jaw. The second cuffed her above her eyes and ripped out the stale loaf of bread that she had stowed into her rags. The biggest of the lot shoved her to the ground, landed a few kicks to her ribs for good measure, and retreated into the darkness with the others, leaving her alone in the alleyway.
Cursing under her breath, Shine pulled herself up against the nearest wall and leaned against it. Bruises and cuts lined her skin, her legs lay sprawled unevenly across the ground, and each breath teetered between a groan and a hiss.
Yet even now, as always, dumped in a random alleyway, she smiled.
And even now, as always, Kat poked out her head from the alley corner and approached her. The sight of Kat eased at the pain within Shine.
“Kat, you shouldn’t be here.” Shine tried to move, but her muscles refused. “I can’t help you tonight. They took my rations.”
Kat dropped to a squat and prodded at Shine’s bruises. The pain made her wince and smile even more. “I saw it. Why you, though?”
“Same as always. I smile. They hate it and I smile more, so they do things like that. You should go. Go on.” She tried to move again. She pressed her palms to the ground and twisted herself around, shoulder pressed against the sleek alley walls that reached high up to the roof of The Pit. A pair of dim lanterns, one at each end, stretched a sliver of silver light across the alleyway that dimmed Kat’s ginger hair to a dull grey. Her skin swum like ghostly waves.
“I’ll help you up.” Kat found Shine’s arm and wrapped it around her neck, giving it a tug.
“Kat. No. Don’t. I’ll manage.”
“Come on. One, two, three.” She gave a great tug and Shine, victim to inertia, swivelled onto her aching feet. “I’ll bring you home now.”
“Kat, please. It’s fine.”
“I’ll take care of you at your place. It’s alright. No need to thank me.” Kat held a hand around Shine’s waist to account for the size difference. The tender hold carried a need. Shine relaxed.
“Did something happen?”
Kat said nothing.
“Did your parents fight again?”
Again, nothing.
They must have looked a ridiculous pair as they made their way into main street, with Kat supporting someone twice her size.
The light snaked between the gaunt stone towers along main street, emphasising the gruffness and weariness of the citizens: silent, eyes forward, composed into four lines that rolled down the street and to the Apostiates’ thrones at the far end. Shine had waited in this same line for three hours for her daily loaf of bread, only to get careless just two streets out from the hovel of her hideout.
Kat guided her out from main street and into the shadows of another alleyway, away from the scrutiny of the citizens of The Pit. She found the scratched X on one of the bricks, counted three to the right, two down, and wiggled the loose brick out from its hold, opening to a small tunnel. Kat snuck in first. Shine followed, scrunching up her legs and shoulders to fit through. She could hardly fit inside her own house anymore. She slid the brick back in its place after her.
The tunnel led into a small room: three walls of stone, with a fourth wall lined with snapped and bent iron bars that ran from roof to floor. The house opened through the bars, leading to a hallway with similar rooms lining the walls.
“Can I read your books? Can I? Can I?” Kat tugged at Shine’s shoulder.
“Quiet, Kat.” Shine slumped onto the mouldy blanket that she used as a bed. “They’ll hear you.” She gestured to the roof. “For a moment I thought you helped me here because you were worried about me.” But Kat had already disappeared through the bars, humming a tune to herself. The small girl returned with a thick, dusty tome with half its pages missing, and started reading. She sat by Shine’s side with her legs crossed and the book split across her knees.
“What’s this word?” Kat pointed. Shine groaned as she shifted herself to look at the pages, which detailed a small brief on sacred minerals.
“Emerald.” Considered the most sacred substance in the world, according to the book. “You remember about sounding out the syllables, yeah?”
“I remember.” Kat fell silent, read for a few minutes, and stopped. “What about this?”
“Kingdom.”
“What does that mean?”
“What book are you reading?” She lifted the cover. Coriolo and Lands Adjacent. “Oh. Well, way back, there used to be these people called kings and queens, and these kings and queens owned all this land, and I think that’s what a kingdom is. Dad said that he didn’t know whether it was true or not, because his dad’s dad’s dad never seemed to mention it.”
“Oh.”
“Kat, can you help me real quick and fetch some water for me?”
“I’m reading.”
“Please? And there are some bandages by the bucket, too.”
“I’m reading.”
“Kat. I think they split the skin above my eye. Don’t spill any.”
Kat groaned, made a great deal of fuss about slamming the book shut, and dragged her feet through the hole in the bars. She returned a minute later with a half-filled bucket of water and a tattered roll of cloth that Shine had made from the remains of a rag she had found a week ago. She dipped the roll into the water and pressed it to the bleeding cut above her eye.
“Um, Shine, are the things in this book true?”
Shine shrugged. “Suppose it must be. Or some of it. I think it is. Probably through the tunnel hole where the Apostiates come from. They must come from somewhere, right? Somewhere where they get that bread, and those fine clothes, and water. I think it’s real, the land of the sun and the trees and kings and queens. I think Coriolo is real, too, and all the land around Coriolo.”
“Why do they want us to mine emeralds for them?”
Shine shrugged. “Whatever it’s for, they aren’t happy with how little we’ve been finding. They gave me hardly half a loaf before. No wonder the thugs stole my portion.”
“I wonder what’s out there.” Kat, book splayed across her lap, leaned into Shine. They fell into a deep silence, disturbed only by the brush of Kat’s fingers across the pages, and a sudden, raspy cough.
“Alright?” Shine pulled Kat closer.
Kat nodded. “I forgot to ask, but I hope it’s alright … can I stay here? I don’t think my parents want to see me anymore.”
Waiting in the line to the Apostiates proved itself a practice of pure misery.
Four hours for a scrap of food. Shine shuffled along, wincing with every step. The line trailed out from the city of The Pit and its gloomy towers to the Apostiates and the tunnel behind them.
Clangs of pickaxes against stone echoed all around her from the far reaches of the cave, reminding her of where she once laboured. After her father had died and she had escaped her mother, she used to drag the carts full of emeralds back and forth with a unit of other workers in exchange for a place to sleep. She never returned once she found her hideout.
“It’s that smiling girl again.” An Apostiate looked down at her from his throne-like chair. His white robes dusted the earth, and a mantle of jutting bones punched the damp air. Five of them sat in a semi-circle surrounding a pile of food and other materials. The dismembered hands of people who had tried to get another helping or two hung from the armrests of the wood chair. “Get beat up?”
“Yes, Apostiate Markov.” She dropped to a knee and placed a hand over her heart. She hated doing it, but her stomach pained more than her pride.
“Suppose it makes sense. You’re a funny looking thing.” He leaned out and beckoned her closer with a finger. His once kindly look shifted sour and his needle-like fingers pricked at the skin of her neck. “Recite it to me. Recite it. Spilgree’s Condemnation of the Wicked. For those who engorge themselves and treat themselves to more than their portion to the detriment of all others.” He nodded to the dismembered hands that hung from his armrests. The sight and the pressure that Markov asserted made her smile despite her fear. She always smiled.
Shine swallowed. “The greedy rot in the purgatory within the world beyond, for they have rejected Spilgree, and have scorned his guidance. They shall suffer for a thousand lifetimes. They shall have their skin flayed, their muscles stripped, veins torn off and tied into ribbons, organs removed, and have themselves put back together, to be dissembled once more. Only then shall they have a chance to repent.”
“Good. Excellent. You have learned the words well,” Markov said. “Most of the other dolts here stumble by the second word. Know this: it is a mercy to cut off a thief’s hand. Take an extra portion. I permit it.” With a cheery smile, he showed his hand to the pile, as if daring her to take it.
“Thank you, Apostiate Markov.” She bowed and stepped to the pile. She picked out a half loaf of stale bread and let out a small gasp. The moment Markov turned his attention, she snatched out, her hand a blur, and found the cool weight of a small, smooth amber as round as a ball. She stuffed it inside the bread, praying nobody had noticed, and trailed back towards the city, trying to move as naturally as she could. Tension prodded at her back as she moved, fearing that one of the Apostiates had noticed. Why did she even take it? What could she even do with a crystal like that?
She kept the loaf hidden under her tattered dress and kept well out of sight of any thuggish looking men prowling the streets and side streets. She snuck back into her home to find Kat on her bed, curled up, clutching her chest, face burning red and shaking with each cough.
Shine dropped to her knees, bread tumbling onto the floor, and lifted Kat’s head onto her lap. She stroked Kat’s hair.
“Kat, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”
“I’m okay,” Kat breathed and cleared her throat. “Just had a bit of a cough. It’s fine. Ahh, is that food?”
Shine tore off a small chunk and handed it to Kat, who snatched it and put it into her mouth. The small crystal tumbled out from the loaf and stopped at Shine’s feet. Kat’s eyes lit up like orbs.
“I found it. Looks pretty, doesn’t it?
“Wow. Imagine how much food you could buy with that.”
Shine held it close to her eye. There was a soft, almost unnoticeable lustre to it. “I don’t think I want to sell it.”
“Is it glass? I read that they can blow up glass like a bubble and its clear and you can see through it, just like that.”
Shine shook her head. “My mum had a shard of glass that she would use to cut pieces of bread. It’s not like that at all. Here.” She handed it to Kat, who cupped it in both hands and held it as if she had never held something so heavy in her life. “I wonder how it came to be down here.” She stared at the far wall. Her eyes glazed over and grew distant.
“I wonder,” Kat began, “what it’s like to be anywhere but here.” She laid a hand on the thick book. “An expanse of green, a roof of blue. Water as far as the eye can see, more food than you can imagine. A jewel of shining yellow. I want to see it all, Shine.”
Shine pulled Kat into a hug, who coughed again a few times, making her whole body shake. Shine didn’t dare tell her how vain such hopes were.
The next morning, Kat coughed more than she ever had in her life. In The Pit, children rarely made it to their teenage years. Shine had seen it all before and knew, from Kat’s tiny, emaciated frame, that she would be one more inconsequential life claimed by The Pit.
She sat by Kat’s side all day, only leaving to collect the daily rations. She read Kat stories from the pile of books until her throat turned raspy and it pained her to talk.
But, as always, Shine continued to smile. She smiled as she cried in secret. She smiled as Kat cried in pain. She must have looked ridiculous. For a moment, she did not mind the fact that those thugs had beaten her up. She would have beaten herself up – smiling and crying, as if she couldn’t make up her mind.
Kat’s health degraded fast, withering away before her eyes, always clutching to the crystal for comfort.
“Shine, is it alright to be afraid?” she asked as Shine closed the book she had been reading aloud and set it down.
“Of course it’s alright.” Shine ran a hand through Kat’s scratchy hair. She held the orb closer to her chest, and for a moment, that soft, golden lustre seemed to pronounce itself.
“I really wanted to see it, Shine.”
“See what?”
“Whatever’s out there. Can you take me there … somehow?”
“I can’t Kat. I’d leave if I could.”
“Find a way out of here. Show it to me, will you?”
“I can’t—”
“Promise me. Please?”
Shine hesitated. “I’ll try.”
Kat, with a surprising burst of strength, twisted around and cupped Shine’s cheek, running thumb across the cut above her eye. “I know that type of smile, Shine. I like that smile. That sad, sad smile. Why smile like that if you’re not happy?”
“My lips do it on their own.”
“That’s not what I meant.” But she said no more. She slid down and curled into a ball; her eyes peacefully closed. She held the crystal against her chest. Shine watched over her as she slept.
Kat died a few hours later. Her arms grew limp, the ball rolled from her grasp, and her body stilled.
Chapter 2 – Pale Hands
“The wind withers away soft things. It’s the way of the world. Don’t ask me how I know.”
The next day, muscles still sore, Shine hauled Kat’s spindly, doll-like body onto her back, crawled out from her home, and carried her down the streets. The other citizens of The Pit didn’t bat an eye. What was one more dead body? On the far side of The Pit opposite of the Apostiates, where the clusters of the stone-grey buildings ended, a path paved down a slope and to The Hole.
Citizens of The Pit cluttered around The Hole, some crying, most passive, with dead eyes and a dead stare. She wasn’t alone, everyone had bodies to dispose of, but her blazing smile made her stick out.
“W-what? Kat?” A distraught looking woman stared at her, aghast. “What is she – is she dead? Who are you? What are you doing with my d-daughter’s body? Why are you smiling? What’s so funny? That’s my d-d-daughter. Who are you?”
“I’m Shine. I’m Kat’s friend.” Her stomach rolled inside of her. She didn’t want to face Kat’s mother. Kat had sought out Shine to escape from her parents, after all.
“But I – I told her not to follow you. I – and now she’s dead. You … you must have killed her. That’s why you’re smi—”
“She fled your house,” Shine said, swallowing the rush of anger. “I treated her the best that I could. Cave-air-strangulation. No one murdered her and I won’t stand for the accusation.”
“You killed her!” The mother’s cheeks pounded red; her eyes pierced Shine like arrow tips. She bellowed a half-scream that alerted the people by The Hole. Shine steadied her breathing and fought to swallow her ever-widening smile. She would never be able to reason with the woman. Her fingers ached, begging to curl into a fist, but her mind resisted.
“She grew sick. Cave-air-strangulation. I already told you.”
“Liar!” The woman stomped up to Shine and spun a fist, clocking her on the cheek. The force of the blow knocked her dizzy and she dropped to the ground, where Kat’s body slipped from her grasp. Around her, some onlookers groaned while others clapped and cheered. “Think this is all a joke? That’s my daughter.” The woman followed with a hard stomp to Shine’s stomach that had her curl up from the pain. She could sense the follow up of the other foot—
“Stop. You’ll kill her.” A somewhat bored looking man held a palm to the mother’s face.
“She killed my daughter. I’ll kill her!”
The man lowered himself to Shine. She could feel him prod at her skin and her hands. “This is no murderer. Someone blind could tell you that much. She showed such exceptional care for your daughter’s body. It’s right there, you know, you’re stepping on her arm. Didn’t you notice? Poor girl, to suffer such a mother.”
The mother yanked her foot away. “Don’t you dare start criticising me. That’s my dear Kat there.”
“Then treat her like your goddamn dear Kat and show the dead some respect.” For a moment Shine thought that the man would attack the mother. Instead, he turned to Shine. “Are you alright?”
She could only make out a blurry image of the man as he helped her up onto her feet and forced her to talk beside him. Her head spun and swirled; strange shapes twisted about. “What about Kat?”
“That woman will figure out how to dispose of it.”
“But – Kat.”
“I’m sure she knows that you’ve done more than enough for her, wherever she is. Come on, slowly, slowly. Along this way. Don’t worry about the onlookers, they’ll lose interest.”
Her vision began to clear. The man stood a foot taller than her and despite everything that she had come to know in The Pit, had a clean face and clean clothes. Her insides snapped cold, and as she moved to shove him away, his fingers clamped down and held her closer to him. He stooped his neck and breathed into her ear.
“You know what they say about making a scene, right?” he said. “Not that it’d matter.”
“You’re one of those … those Appreciators. Aren’t you?” she struggled out the words.
“Yes. I think that’s the title we’ve earned. Arnloch Grimlet will be most delighted to see you. I can see it now.” He took a step back and held his hands out in front of him, framing the space in front of him with his fingers. “Pained hubris. The smouldering smile. The – what’s your name?”
“Shine.”
“Family name?”
“Uh?”
“Should have expected it. No matter, no matter. How about this: Shining Bright?”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“Well, you’ll see soon enough. I’m Falt. No family name.”
Back within the clump of stone and streets, they circled upon one of the drab towers. Just like all the other grey slabs of soulless stone, Shine had passed by the place countless times, but had never walked up its steps.
Falt dragged her up by her elbow and pushed open the door. Shine couldn’t help the gasp that escaped from her lips. Luxuries that betrayed its gaunt exterior decorated the rooms inside: moth-eaten carpets, chipped painting frames (often empty), and unlit chandeliers. Riches beyond riches.
But the true horror waited beyond a pair of double doors, guarded by club-wielding men on each side.
She only caught a few brief glimpses of the room as Falt forced her through to the far end. Four cages waited in the hall, two to each side. Each contained a different subject: A bearded man stood at half her size; a pair of identical twins pressed tight together in the confines of the cage, limbs tangling with one another; a man with half his head and chest covered with burn marks watched her as she crossed the room; and a girl clutched to the roof bars of the cage with her feet and dangled like a bat.
Hand like a vice, Falt marched her across the hall and opened the doors that led to a larger study. A gaggle of men and women lay across the soggy and dirty couches that stretched across the room, whispering, and giggling with each other, except for one man who stood behind an easel at the far end, painting the scene. He turned to Shine and Falt when the door shut.
“Welcome to my gallery. I am Arnloch Grimlet,” the man behind the easel said. “And you?”
“Shine.”
Arnloch carried a sophisticated weight about him. He bent the rules of The Pit with his fine clothes and alight gaze, and he carried himself with distinction. She had expected someone ferocious, yet he eyed her with something akin to respect. No, not respect. Appraisal – appreciation. The man turned from her to Falt.
“You have a good eye. What does she do?”
Falt hammed an elbow into Shine’s ribs. The force of the blow made her stoop forward and clutch at her ribs before Falt yanked the back of her neck to force her to face Arnloch. “See?”
“She smiles, I see. Shine, stay right there.” Arnloch set his half-finished canvas on the ground and fetched up a new one. Shine sidled closer to get a better view of his desk which lay cluttered with finished paintings. She had never seen such vibrant meshes of colours before. Strange people in strange positions occupied the frames. She saw some depictions of the twins, or the small man, and even the girl that dangled from her feet. Underneath the pile, she saw a corner of some sort of mix between a rat and a girl.
“Impressed by all this?”
She nodded.
“It’s an interest of mine. Painting. It took a lot to get these, you know. I see your eyes roving about – never seen a carpet before? That thing you’re standing on.” He pressed a brush to the blank canvas.
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. Deruvian wool. It’s rare. Tough, too. I made a deal with someone, you see. They like my art, and they reward me for it. You know, I could put some good clothes on you,” Arnloch said. “Falt.”
“Yes.” Falt swept out from the room, leaving Shine to shift her feet and twiddle with her thumbs.
“The rest of you, clear out.” Arnloch waved his hand about. The men and woman ushered out. As if Arnloch had caught Shine staring at his jacket, he held out the cuff of his sleeve. “This? Leather. Deruvian on the inside. These buttons? Skebreeze metal, believe it or not – see how it refracts the light? Made in Podswollomp. But you wouldn’t know where or what that is.”
“It’s in the southern highlands.”
Arnloch paused, raised an eyebrow, and did a few cursory flicks of his brush. “How would you know that?”
Shine grimaced. How foolish was she? Why did she give away that sort of information? Silently reprimanding herself, she answered. “I read some books.”
“Don’t let the Apostiates know about them. For your own sake.”
Falt returned, arms full of dresses finer than Shine had seen all her life. Even torn and with the colour smudged out, Shine wondered whether anyone else outside of this room had ever seen such beauty and wealth before.
“Show her a few, Falt. I want one that really shows off that smile.”
Falt pressed a silky dress lined with white and blue stripes against Shine’s shoulders.
“Soolian silk, that is. That one over there is wool. That’s something called cotton. Beautiful isn’t it. And the people out in the streets? They’ve probably never seen so much as a swish of this fabric. All this – it doesn’t belong in The Pit, yet it is mine.”
Arnloch furrowed his brow, deep in thought. He raised a brush to the canvas, paused, and pulled it back. “Why not try that one?” He pointed at a black dress mixed with greys, and a splotch of scarlet red that reminded Shine of blood.
Shine bent to pick it up and paused. Why? Why should she do that? She didn’t want to be with Arnloch or Falt or any of them, but then again, she had never seen such vibrant riches before. But it wasn’t about the riches. Compared to her home, this was everything she had ever wanted, ever imagined.
But no, again that wasn’t true, either. She had imagined so much more than fraying dresses and dusty carpets. She and Kat had obsessed over those books. The fields of green, the expanse of blue. Kat had made her promise, but what good was a promise with a dead person?
Her stomach churned. She felt hideous, and with that feeling of self-hatred, she smiled even harder.
No, Shine. Focus. The world out there – it didn’t matter. The Apostiates guarded it. It wasn’t for her to experience. She wasn’t one of the lucky ones. Whatever waited out there was for other people to experience, but not her. Her stomach squeezed with hunger. Her lips cracked with thirst.
She picked up the dress and held it out in front of her.
“That’s right. Try it on, I think it would look excellent on you, especially with that dazzling smile of yours.”
“Why?” She thought of the weirdos trapped in their cages. “Are you going to imprison me, too?”
Arnloch smirked. “Imprison? I would never do such a thing.”
“Then—”
“They are there of their own volition. They are on display. I pay them for their stay. I do not keep them there. I treat them well if they continue to satisfy me. You look awfully hungry yourself … but if there is anything else I can help you with … I’m sure we can come to an agreement so long as you continue to pique my artistic interest.”
They met each other’s eyes.
“Well?”
Shine sighed. “Food and water, please.”
“Deal.”
Shine slipped the dress on. The splotch of scarlet on the black lined with her heart, as vivacious as a rose.
“Excellent. Hold still. There is a masterwork inside of you waiting to break free.” As Arnloch worked, his lofty expression darkened to astute concentration. What followed was a painful, quiet pair of hours as Arnloch had her remain statue still. Shine’s feet pained from holding the position for so long, but eventually that pain subsided, and she didn’t know what to feel or think anymore.
Standing there, with the dress worth more than ten of her lives upon her shoulders, she found herself dwelling on those books. She felt so utterly cold upon the stone, but the books had told of the yellow jewel – the sun. So warm, so bright. Incandescent. One author had talked about its feel as if it were a lover’s caress.
What would it feel like upon her own skin?
Arnloch lifted his brush, shifted back to get a better view, and nodded. “Excellent. Come look.”
Free from her sore muscles, she looked over and gasped. Not because of the skill of the artist, but of how disorienting she looked. The dark dress threw her scratchy blonde hair – matted and unkempt – into stark contrast. Scabs and bruises turned her white skin into a range of dark purple browns to sharp pinks. Arnloch commented on her yellow eyes, likening it to flames, something that she had only ever read about. But her smile, her damned smile. Where there should have been misery was an expression of joy. Or was it a grimace? It was some sort of sad, twisted mix of emotions that warped her face into some mockery of emotions.
“Not happy with it?” Arnloch frowned as she turned away.
“I look weird.”
“So do my other subjects. That’s the charm. That’s the excitement. King would love this.”
“King?”
“A name that does not concern you.”
“Is he related to the Apostiates?” The pieces clicked into place. How else would Arnloch have gotten all this stuff? White hot anger struck through her. How could he work with people like them? How could he gloat his wealth and prestige as if he did not earn them on the back of everyone’s suffering? Her hand snapped to a fist.
“Apostiates? Don’t make laugh.” Arnloch boomed out with laughter.
“Huh?” Her fingers loosened. “Then who?”
“I think you’ve asked a few too many questions for today. Falt, show her to her room. Give her something to eat. Remain interesting and worthy of painting and you may live here as long as you please.”
Falt detached himself from the wall. She had forgotten about him. As he led her back through the hall and into another door, she contemplated her good fortune. She would never go hungry again. No longer would she have to squeeze herself back through the hole and into her hideout anymore. She sighed. This was all a good thing, right? She blinked and saw Kat, sprawled out across the stone floor, her mother carelessly stepping on her limp hand. She had seen so many people come and go within The Pit, why did she care so much about Kat?
Find a way out of here. Show it to me, will you?
Falt struggled with the door to her room. He rammed his shoulder against the surface a few times before it swung open. She should have felt glad, ecstatic, at the sight in front of her. Instead, she felt hollow. Was this all the world had to offer to her? Her eyes roved over the straw bed, felt blanket, and chipped stone desk.
She didn’t want all this. She crossed the room to the bed and pressed a hand against it. It would be nice sleeping on a soft surface for once, but she didn’t want this. She wanted more. So much more. She wanted warmth.
“Alright, eh?” Falt asked her.
“It’s great. Thank you.” She did not look back at him. She waited for him to close the door behind her with promises of a satisfying dinner. She sat down on the bed and noticed a square wooden board on the stone desk. About as wide and long as the length of her hand, straight lines and markings crossed the surface. A series of white and black chips lay to the side.
Curiosity compelled her to inspect the board. It was some sort of game, like stone throw or finger break, but condensed onto a small, flat plane.
“Falt,” she said, “I know you’re still listening in.”
A shoulder rammed the door, and it swung open to reveal a sheepish looking Falt. “Caught.”
“What is this?”
Falt smirked at the question, as if hiding something humorous. “You are not the first to be interested in this.”
“It’s the only thing in here I can be interested in.”
“Not your lovely new bed? The prospect of a pleasant sleep?”
“They are impressive, but not interesting.”
“What do you think of Arnloch?”
Shine tilted her head. “Does this relate to the question?”
“It does. In a way.”
“I think he is a more charismatic man than I have ever seen, and cares more about his passion and his possession than anything else. But he is not as cruel as the Apostiates. And … well, he seems nice. He gave me a comfortable place to sleep. I won’t go hungry.”
“You won’t go hungry as long as you interest him,” Falt corrected. “I am sorry about that friend of yours. Kat, was it? It’s never easy losing someone, and I apologise for taking advantage of you.” But of course, Shine realised, Falt also had to satisfy Arnloch in some way if he wanted shelter and food. Finding her was part of his job. “Look. Don’t lower your guard around him. I’ve seen him lose interest in the most curious people, and good things never follow.” Falt tapped at the board. “But Arnloch loves this game.”
“What am I supposed to do with that information?”
Falt shrugged. “Whatever you please. I can teach you how to play.”
Chapter 3 – Fleeting Fingers
“A whimper made more of a difference than the screams ever did. Don’t ask me how I know.”
Shine slept on a comfortable bed for the first time in her life, yet she had never felt so disgusted with herself. Her stomach grinded and twisted and rolled all night. She felt worse than she did whenever she had disappointed her mother. She had never thought such shame possible, and for what? Just the death of one single girl that had made Shine promise the unfulfillable.
Burdens and thoughts clouded her head as she met Arnloch in his study. She moved as he instructed, but no matter how well she posed, he never seemed satisfied.
“Stop, just stop.” Arnloch lowered his brush and looked over her. “Where is that same charm from yesterday? I don’t understand it. The first one was good, but these—” he waved a hand around to the other canvases— “they’re dull. Plain. I could have gotten anyone to do what you just did. But yesterday, you were alive. There was something beautiful about it all.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Tell me, Shine: what are the pillars of your life?”
“The pillars?”
“What beliefs do you hold onto? Or are you just a fickle urchin that does what she can without a care in the world?”
“I suppose I try and do good for the people I care about.”
“I wouldn’t say that. You seem entirely unconfident in who you are. I have the artist’s eye. I see things that others can’t. Bruised and battered fists, oh you often come to blows, but the way your eyes search and dart about, you struggle to confront the true problems before you. You don’t raise your fists when it truly matters, do you?” Arnloch held a half-painted canvas in front of him and compared it to a few on the table, nodding to himself, as if verifying his claim. He raised an eyebrow to Shine. “Well?”
Shine took a step back and held at her elbow in nervousness. “I don’t understand.”
“Falt told me how he found you. Why not clobber that woman good? She clearly deserved it.” Arnloch replaced the canvas with a blank one and began with a few quick strokes.
“I … I’m not sure. I’m not sure what she did to Kat.”
“Clearly a lot of evil. But the bruises on your fist, and the cut above your eye. Those are recent. You must have had no problem striking out at someone else.”
“Some thugs went to steal my rations.”
“And?”
“They succeeded.”
“Your father must have been disappointed.” He watched her closely. “Your mother, too.” He smirked as she flinched. “Hah. Figured it out. Knew it was one of them.”
“Why are you trying to pry me for details, Arnloch?”
“I simply want to understand my subjects better. How did they come to reach this point in life? What made them the way that they are? What is the story between the texture of their bruises and the tale of their callouses? What is the tale of your smile?”
Shine swallowed. She wanted to be anywhere besides here. Why did Arnloch insist on prying her for everything about her? And what was that rubbish about only fighting over pointless stuff? Or that she was unsure about herself? As she silently admonished him, her mind drifted to a field of verdant greens and blues and the orb of yellow, eternally out of reach. For a moment, she wanted to cry, and her smile widened, betraying the rush of sadness.
“Well?” Arnloch lashed at the canvas.
“Who knows.”
Arnloch snorted with laughter. “Perhaps the mystery makes it more exciting. You look prettier when you show emotion. It is interesting when your smile betrays you. Perhaps that is the key to creativity.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I must simply draw out the best of that smile in all the worst ways. You are dismissed for today.”
Shine returned to her room with her head crammed full of worries and annoyances. Half of her wanted to lash out at Arnloch and his vanity. The other half of her seemed to agree with him. She didn’t have the guts to confront him directly. She shouldered open the door to her room and crashed down to the floor as the door swung wide open with no resistance. She sputtered and looked around.
Falt sat on the desk, idly toying with some of the stones on the gameboard. “Sorry there, my bad. I left the door ajar for you when you returned.”
“Ouch. Why?”
“I didn’t expect you to throw yourself against the door. Come here. I’ll teach you how to play Pillars and Stones.”
#
What did she expect out of all this?
Fine room or not, hungry or not, The Pit still trapped her. The Apostiates protected the secrets of what lay beyond their thrones. She had promised Kat … but no, it wasn’t about Kat. It was about herself. More than anything, she wanted to see what waited beyond. Was it really such a selfish ideal to see what waited beyond and verify the truth of the books she had read? To wonder why the Apostiates barricaded them in a gloomy cave and gave them no reason to exist except to mine emerald?
“I don’t get it.” For the seventh day in a row, Arnloch set down his brush and regarded her with disappointment. “You are not almost as interesting as I once thought. I’ll have to talk to Falt—”
“Arnloch, what do you think exists outside The Pit?” Shine blurted out. She stood in her usual spot in his study, arms stretched out to her sides to the shape of a cross as Arnloch had instructed of her.
“Not for me to know, girl. I don’t care about it. I only care about their products and fineries, which I already have.”
“You’ve read on it, haven’t you? You know more than you’re letting on.”
“You think it’s some fine and dandy world out there, don’t you? You think it’s some perfect world, with perfect ideals, and a perfect look to match. Ain’t that right?”
“Yes.”
Arnloch boomed with laughter. “Silly girl. If the world up there is like that, why then, are you down here in a world like this? What sort of beautiful world traps people underground and has them live on scraps?”
Shine ignored him. “I want to see what’s out there.”
“You’re an idealistic, idiot girl, without the spine to go out and seek it.”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re not.” Arnloch hardened his gaze at her. His eyes dissected her, and she felt her conviction flee from her. “You don’t know what you want. You’re just some distraught, pathetic woman with a weird face. No one else has ever thought of seriously trying to escape, and you’re no different. You can’t even begin to imagine yourself as someone separate from the rest of them.” Arnloch turned to his other canvases. Of the entire week, he had only completed two portraits of her. “I expected better of you.”
She bowed her head. “I’m sorry.”
“It is Falt’s blunder. We all make mistakes. But you do not entertain me anymore.”
“I … I don’t?”
“I want you out of here.”
“Out?” She gasped. Arnloch had grown bored of her, just like that. He smirked at the sight of her.
“It’s only when you dread for yourself that you look interesting. Falt.” The door opened and Falt stepped in. “Kindly escort Shine out.”
“Wait, please. I’ll do—”
“Now.”
Falt carted her around by her shoulder. He easily overpowered her, and without a glance back, he dragged her out from Arnloch’s study despite her stammers and pleadings. In the hall with the four cages, she noticed that the subjects had changed. A man with a missing hand replaced the girl that hung from the top of the cell with her feet and a woman with a pair of frantic eyes who sat and barked and snarled at them replaced the identical twins.
“I told you that he grows bored of people,” Falt said, squeezing her arm tighter to silence her protests.
“He’s toying with us.”
“Of course he is. He doesn’t view you, or anyone here, as a person to be respected. You are an art piece, nothing more, nothing less, that he grew bored of.” He led her out the front door of the building and shut the door behind him. “You know, you were quite good at Pillars and Stones,” he said, idly looking at a pair of ragged citizens hobbling down the street.
Shine raised an eyebrow. “Huh? But I never won.”
“Arnloch doesn’t like to play against me. I always win. But he’d gamble with anyone else. He likes high stakes.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
To answer, Falt shook back his sleeves, revealing pockmarks running along the length of his arm like roses. “Arnloch took interest in me once. Once a prize of interest, later forgotten. I challenged him. I had nothing to lose except my life, but I don’t think I was ever really alive, either. I won, and that’s why I live with him and help him. Well … give it some thought, huh?” Falt clapped her on the shoulder and slipped back inside the building, leaving Shine to the colourless streets that she had tried to forget.
She returned to her hideout and found the brick askew. Her stomach churned. She wedged herself through the gap and wormed through the tunnel to find the meagre contents of the room strewn about. A loose cover of one of her books lay across the ground, thrown carelessly to the side, but nothing else remained. The thieves had even taken her blanket.
She did not cry. Her mind fell void of emotion. Nothing of her home existed anymore. Not even the memories of the outside.
Something twinkled in the corner of the room, hidden in the shadows, under a sheet of dirt and dust. She stooped down and grabbed the small crystal and found a warm surface instead of the cold touch she had expected. The warmth washed over her. She had never thought that something so warm, so gentle, could exist.
And then the tears came. The pleasant sensation existed as an anomaly within her life of roughness. She held the warm gem to her cheek, letting her tears curl around the hard surface. A glint of orange glimmered from within the surface and a soft beat drummed from within. A heartbeat.
“I’m sorry,” the words slipped out from her as she fell to her knees. “I’m sorry, Kat. I wasn’t strong enough.” She recalled how Kat had clutched the gem to her chest so lovingly. “I can’t go to the surface. I can’t.” The gem beat harder. A strict beat of reprimand.
Why not try?
She looked around for the source of the voice. Had she imagined it? She looked down to the gem, which twinkled and beat stronger.
She pressed the gem to her own chest, and when it touched her skin, it slipped inside with a pop. She could feel it, beating against her chest in time with her own heartbeat.
The surprise lasted only a moment. It made sense; it felt natural.
“Can I try?” Shine said. “Can I really?”
I need you to. I need your help.
Kat? It didn’t sound like her. Shine couldn’t help the sting of dismay. “Who are you?”
I cannot talk for long. I’m sorry. It is hard to speak from the world beyond. I need to reach the surface.
“Who are you? What’s your name?”
The voice came out as a weathered croak and faded into the still air. Sol.
She stood there for a while, mulling things over. What to think and what to do …
Her hideout remained still. Nothing moved. First, she had lost Kat in here, and then her books, but a new passion beat within her. The promise she had made to Kat burned like a golden brand on her heart. She had to fulfill it. Not for Kat, but for herself.
#
Shine felt powerful when she returned to Arnloch’s mansion. She rolled back her shoulders, lifted her chin, and faced the pair of guards that manned the front door.
“Come slinking back, eh?” one of the guards looked her over and rested a hand on the pommel of his club.
“Let me in.”
“We’re not fool enough to do that,” the guard said. The other nodded with him. “Go on and scram. If he kicks you out, you’re out.”
“I have something to wager with him.”
The guards exchanged looks. “Get Falt,” the other said. The first guard disappeared inside, and she waited with her arms crossed, legs held strong, and a sure smile. The guard returned with Falt, who seemed glad to see her.
“You were quick with that,” Falt said, motioning her inside.
“I made up my mind.”
“You have a lot to lose. Arnloch does take to a few morbid proclivities.”
“There’s everything to gain, too. I won’t lose.”
Falt led her down the familiar hall and into Arnloch’s study, where Arnloch sat. A grin curled Arnloch’s lips. He had expected her.
“Come crawling back, eh?” He inched a finger towards his brush as he spoke.
“I’d like to make a wager.”
“Do tell.” His hand stopped short, and he flashed with excitement.
“Pillars and Stones. You win and you can do whatever you want with me.”
“And if you win?”
“You’ll help me get out of here.”
Arnloch reached up to twirl his moustache. “How pointless.”
“Pointless?”
“I expected something a little more flattering. You want to leave this place. I get it. Don’t want anything to do with The Pit anymore, huh? Or the Apostiates?” Shine didn’t respond. “You’ll be disappointed, and I can’t guarantee that you’ll be able to figure your way out, too.”
“You’ll do your best to help me. You’ll give me all the necessary information and all that you know of. You’ll tell me whatever this King may have told you about getting out of here.”
Arnloch shrugged. “Sure. And of course, if I win, your pathetic little body is mine to do as I please.” He reached out and tapped the tip of a rusty knife that lay on his bench. “Few people permit me to delve into the more interesting sides of humanity. I wonder if you’ll continue to smile, even as you die.”
A wave of uneasiness washed over Shine. In response, the beating within her chest welled with warmth to replace the cold.
“Shall we begin, then?” she said.
Arnloch clapped twice. Falt rushed out of the room and returned with a board, which he set up on the table between them with the board’s opposing corners pointing to Shine and Arnloch.
Arnloch took the first move, moving a Bird forward. Shine had her Herald meet the Bird. The game passed back and forth between them. A silent, tense game that shifted from player to player.
“What do you really think is out there, Shine?” Arnloch said as Shine claimed one of his Circles.
“It’s not about what I think is out there anymore.” She pressed forward, adding the Circle to her Pillar to maintain a steady advantage.
“Then what’s the point of it all?” Arnloch drew a piece back. Was he afraid? His earlier aggression had switched to the defensive.
“Wants have a habit of turning into musts, don’t they? You wanted to draw once, but now you must. Arnloch must draw. I must reach the outside.” Shine tapped forward with her Herald. But too late. She noticed her mistake the moment she lifted her fingers from the board. Arnloch’s Bird could claim her Herald, and from there, he had a clear shot to her Pillar.
“Why do you want to go there, Shine?” Arnloch’s fingers hovered over his Bird.
“I made a promise.”
He picked up his Bird.
“And,” Shine added, “I want to see it all for myself. I’ve never wanted anything so bad, ever. I want to see it all. I’m selfish and I want to see it all for myself.”
Arnloch smirked. “I enjoy people who are honest about their selfishness,” Arnloch said with a sigh. “I like the ones who are direct about what they want. Hey, who knows. You might end up escaping from this hole. You might even end up satisfied with what you see. I know that I could never be satisfied.”
Arnloch set the Bird down and instead moved a token from his Pillar onto the game board, giving her a clear line of victory. He caught her look of surprise.
“I was never a good player at this game,” Arnloch said, feigning idiocy, “when it comes to it, I sometimes find it very hard to win. I have no idea why.”
Shine pushed her own Bird forward and claimed the Pillar.
“Now,” Arnloch said, leaning in closer, “I’ll tell you what I know.”
#
Shine knew from the start that she would have to venture alone. She lay in wait, submerged in the shadows, as still as a rock. She could see the Apostiates’ thrones from behind.
Over the course of several hours, she had crept along the far perimeters of The Pit outside of the purview of the city to reach her vantage point.
Her heart swelled up with anxiety.
It all depended on the space of not even two minutes, when one set of Apostiates rotated with the other. Her fingers found the rags over her chest, where her heart thumped in anticipation.
She clenched to the rock she hid behind for reassurance. Its surface gave her a sense of security. She could do this – she must do this. For Kat. Her body stilled, she waited. Holding herself in place, she bit at her breath and counted the seconds, minutes, and hours.
A wagon rattled from deeper down the cave behind the Apostiates. Its wheels clattered against the hard stone. A legion of five more Apostiates lumbered down, each with a hand on the side of the wagon full of food scraps. The group met with the Apostiates on the thrones, and now, with all their backs turned, which served as a distraction for the other citizens lining up for their rations, she bolted.
Her bare feet slapped against the stone and her dress trailed out from her like a banshee.
Just reach the tunnel, she hissed to herself.
“One of them’s getting away,” an Apostiate shouted.
She didn’t dare look back, but she counted a good half dozen of footsteps trailing after her. She must have appeared like a strip of pale white. The amber within her beat faster. Its thumps burned through her growing exhaustion and dulled the edge of her panic. It commanded for her to focus on Arnloch’s instructions.
The tunnel tightened; its ground turned more rigid and pointed. Its sharp edges cut at the soles of her feet.
She turned along a sharp corner and dived behind a pillar of stone. She thrust her arms forward, found the small hole that Arnloch had told her off, and forced her body through, wriggling through like a worm.
A hand clasped down on her ankle.
“Oh no you don’t.” Markov’s voice.
She kicked out, catching his wrist. He pulled tighter. She kicked out again. She ripped her ankle free and buried herself in deeper.
The hole proved tight and asphyxiating. She could hardly fit herself through. Markov swiped the air, just missing her toes, and fell back disappointed.
“Suns damn it,” Markov stamped his foot. “Got away.”
“Spilgree will be mad,” another one said.
“I want two Apostiates watching that hole,” Markov said. “Wait until she crawls back out or until she suffocates in there. Doubt it leads anywhere.”
“You’d better hope it leads nowhere, eh, Markov.”
Shine could feel the iciness of Markov’s shudder as she pulled herself deeper and deeper. She felt her way through the darkness, and just as Arnloch had said, found a larger tunnel where she could reorient herself and breathe. The hidden passage led all the way to the entrance of the cave.
Taking a breath to calm herself, she continued onward, excitement bubbling inside her.
Chapter 4 – Index Outward
“All records are wrong, be they written a century ago or today. Don’t ask me how I know.”
The first light of the sky laid bare all Shine’s twenty years. Her library of knowledge, scrounged from the dusty and worn book hidden by her family, shrivelled away to reveal one undisputable fact: She knew nothing.
Nothing of the land outside The Pit. Nothing of beauty.
Stars glittered greater than a treasure trove of gold; the three moons glared down, red, blue, and green, each monstrous in size – Apylo, the crushing ruby; Tumulus, the imperious sapphire; Radia, the jolly emerald. The land, an expanse of silver sand, rolled on and on, collapsing into lines of concentric dunes. The sand met the horizon and pinched up into distant, jagged mountain lines.
A wave of warmth rushed through her chest, which pulsed like a twin heart, shielding her against the cold winds that raked the lands. Two opposing waves of emotion crashed against her. Her legs spilled inwards, and she fell to her knees, body trembling.
“I am nothing.” Her fingers found her cheeks. She bit her lip. “I want to see everything. I want to see every single fold of this world, every hidden beauty. Everything.”
She jumped with a start.
Hoof beats drummed at the earth. She staggered to her feet, head flicking about in search of the sound. A pair of riders on horses, beasts that towered almost twice as tall as she was, with sharp bristles for manes, stampeded towards her.
She threw her hands up in front of her and braced herself as the riders clamped their iron hands onto her biceps, hoisted her up into the air, and threw her onto the silver sand where she landed on her back.
Spears struck out from above her, crossing in the air and forming an X above her chest, pressing her down to the ground in a pincer. She cast about for a better look at the riders and found the familiar Apostiate robes and bone mantles.
“Must have escaped from The Pit,” the first one said, a tall man with a sharp beard that jutted out like a rock crevice.
“Should we send her back?” the second man looked kinder. His gaze softened for a flicker. Taller than the other Apostiate, with lines of exhaustion that stretched out from his eyes, he slid from his horse and knelt by Shine’s side. “What’s one girl scurrying about up here going to do?”
“Rahl, we shouldn’t.”
“It’s the other Apostiates’ faults, right? The ones down in The Pit.”
“He’ll figure it out. You know what he’s like. It’s pointless.”
Rahl drew back, deep in thought. “What’s your name, girl? Why are you here?”
The warmth in Shine’s chest flared for a moment, stilling her trembling body. “Shine, Apostiate ahh … I just … I just wanted to see the world. I didn’t mean anything by it. I promise.”
Rahl exchanged looks with his companion.
“He’ll figure it out,” his companion said with a note of panic. “He always does. Look, I know you don’t like this, Rahl. I know who she reminds you of, but you know better than anyone how it will turn out.”
Rahl sighed. “Shine, you’re coming with us. Spilgree will decide your fate. Don’t speak out of line and don’t lie.” He pried free his spear and his companion did the same. He lifted Shine to her feet and helped her climb onto the horse. She had never seen a horse before. She ran a hand through the beast’s thick muscles and felt a wave of security upon its back. “Shine. Treat Spilgree with utmost respect and you might see yourself out of this alive. He is more than a god; he is God.” A hint of a tear glazed his eye. “I’m sorry.”
Shine’s mind raced as Rahl spurred his horse into a gallop. Some part of her insisted that she should try and run away and give the Apostiates the slip, but where would she go to? There was nothing but a sea of silver sand around her with nowhere to hide. The rest of her felt quite content on the horse’s back. It gave her a chance to absorb the beauty of the sky she had once only read about.
The stars and moon glinted as a kaleidoscope of colours with Radia shining in its centre, illuminating a green structure upon the horizon. A pyramid of chiselled emerald. The pyramid reached to a plateau that was lined with pillars and beams, signifying continued construction. Her heart dropped. The Pit had existed for this.
White Apostiate robes flittered about the layers of the pyramid, barking instructions to tired, exhausted workers clad in shabby garments. If the moons exemplified nature’s beauty, then this construct, which seemed to stare down her presence, laughed in the face of it.
The horses slowed to a stop. Rahl helped Shine to the ground and guided her up the great flight of stairs. The blunt end of his spear found the square of her back whenever she slowed down a step or two, jabbing hard to keep her moving.
The lanterns that dotted the sides of the stairs flared with blinding light. She was accustomed to that dull glow from the lanterns in The Pit. With a closer look, she found the lanterns to be crabs within shining jewels studded along the rim of their shells and dangling from ropes tied to a pole. Light flared out from underneath the gaps in its shell.
The stairs plateaued at the peak, reaching a small, flat platform of emerald smooth enough to reflect her face back at her. A throne lined with silver and gold sat at the middle of the platform. She hardly even noticed the concubines in flowing cloud dresses that swarmed the throne for the man that sat on it. His presence oozed authority from every iota of his being.
Apylo cast a scarlet halo upon his bald head. Tilted to the side, his temples and jaw shone like prison bars, of which his iron gaze acted as its warden. He met Shine and she dropped her gaze to her feet, smiling more than she ever had in her life. Fear. It clung to her, tore at her. She wanted to leave and never return. Oh, life, back in The Pit. She yearned for it. Why had she been so foolish?
“Well?” The voice of law itself. A voice that one could never disobey.
“We found her outside The Pit. Escaped.”
The man grabbed a grape from a concubine and rolled it about in his fingers. He pressed tighter, and for a moment, Shine imagine her own eye placed there instead, about to be crushed. Spilgree popped the grape into his mouth. “Trap a thousand rats in a box and one is bound to escape. It’s not worth bringing her to me. Why did the Apostiates let one slip through?”
It took Shine a few second to realise that Spilgree had directed the question to her. Her throat tightened as she forced her answer through. “Why?”
“Or I suppose a more fitting question is: why are you here and not down there?”
The answer felt foolish now. “I wanted to see the world, Apostiate—”
“You need only refer to a god by their name.”
“I wanted to see the world, Spilgree.” She looked to Spilgree, who said nothing. His silence forced her to keep speaking. “I had heard of all sorts of things up here. The sea, the forests, the moons, the sun.”
“The sun?”
“Yes, Spilgree.”
For a fleeting moment, Shine feared death. A slight shift in Spilgree’s posture left her terrified. Relief swept through her as he turned to Rahl. “Fetch her a stool.”
“Yes.” Rahl rushed away. An agonising silence, of which Spilgree appeared entirely undisturbed, passed between them. The concubines threw her stark looks, and her damn smile carved wider with each minute. Rahl returned with a simple wooden stood, which he placed to the east side of the plateau against a pillar.
“What is your name?” Spilgree asked as he rolled a grape between his knuckles.
“Shine.”
“Go. You may watch the sun.” He nodded to the stool.
Feeling a complete fool, she rose to her feet. Spilgree’s dagger eyes pricked at her as she moved, and as she sat down, she realised that she wanted to do anything besides watching the sunrise. But where her mind resisted and screamed at her, her body obeyed, helpless. A cord tightened around her, pressing her tight to the pillar.
The hours drifted by and her mind raged against itself, criticising everything that she had ever done and everything that she had ever aspired to be. She saw Kat’s broken body once again, she saw her mother’s fist held over her, she saw … a woman she had never seen before, in a room she didn’t recognise, but no sooner had she tried to understand the woman or the room, it slipped away from her, as if the sight had never existed in the first place.
The temperature snapped icy cold.
The great orb, black of the blackest blacks, which seemed to swallow all the light around it, peered over the horizon. It consumed everything, sucking the colour from the moons, the shine from the stars, and the green of the emerald pyramid, leaving the world in greater darkness than The Pit. She squirmed and struggled to pull herself free, but the cord held tight.
“The sun is very cold,” Spilgree said. “It snuffs out your senses and strips out your mind. You won’t even know when you cross into the realm of death.”
“Wait—”
“Let the god waiting in the world beyond know that I am on her doorstep.” Spilgree, surrounded by consorts and cloaked in a bubble of light from the crab lanterns, left the plateau.
The cold only grew worse. It tore at her skin, as if worms made of ice squirmed about inside her veins. Her skin had paled to a blueish grey sheen.
“A friend?”
Shine could barely make out the shape of another figure tied to the pillar to her left. A man, spindly and thin, almost stripped of muscles and mass.
“H-hello.” Shine’s teeth chattered.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone else strung up here besides me. I am Karn.”
“S-shine.” She could hardly think for the cold.
“Brace yourself. The sun will sap all the warmth from you, and you will die. I can keep you company, though. I think it’s best to go out talking.”
“I—I’m going t-to d-die?” Kat flashed in her mind again. She had promised her … Shine tore against the rope harder and harder, but it did not budge.
“You can’t escape, Shine. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
“W-what about you? A-are y-you going t-t-t-to die?”
“No. I do not die. Unlucky me. I am Soul Decreed. I do not have the pleasure of death until my master dies.”
Shine struggled. The ropes chafed her skin. She slumped forward, lost. Her skin began to shrivel and prune as the heat around her fled, except for her heart, which beat faster and faster – a small nest of warmth.
“Shine, what’s that?” An orange glow radiated from Shine’s chest, scaring away the darkness around her and stretching its warmth to the end of her fingertips. “That warmth. That’s the warmth of the sun. The real sun.”
The warmth ran deep through her veins. The sun. The voice within her had called itself Sol.
“You can’t let Spilgree know about this. He—” Karn paused, gritted his teeth, and slammed the back of his head hard against the pillar behind him, letting out a cry of pain as he did. “No … but he will. He will. But he mustn’t. He will but he mustn’t.” He hit his head against the beam again.
“Karn. Stop it.” The sight horrified her. Beads of blood rolled down the side of Karn’s face. As Karn moved, a piece of his shirt slipped off from his shoulder, revealing a tattoo carved into his skin, which spelled out a name: Larla. Countless more ran alongside the Larla tattoo, curling along his skin like snakes, up and down the length of his body.
“He mustn’t find out.”
Shine could assume that much already. Benign people rarely tied other people to pillars. But keeping such a secret seemed impossible. Spilgree hardly seemed to be someone that one could hide a secret from. Nevertheless, she hazarded a “why?”
“Because the sun was once God,” Karn said. “But the sun is gone. Spilgree is God now. Or he will be. A hundred years ago, he and his Apostiates had already rejected the sun as their ruler and made a mockery of her, and when the sun lost its shine, he and his followers continued to exist.”
“I – uh, I don’t really understand. I come from The Pit, you see …”
“Is it true that you lot from The Pit had never seen the sky before?”
“The sky and everything else. I had read of the sun. I wanted to see it.”
“Then listen,” Karn said. “More than a hundred years ago, Spilgree once served the kingdom of Coriolo. The king and the queen devoted themselves to the sun, but the true rulers were the Lightkeepers, who helped maintain the sun’s existence on earth. They gave Spilgree the Silver Sands to rule and construct a prison, but in place of the prison, he dug The Pit, where he stored prisoners and had them mine emeralds for him. Spilgree rejected the sun. Emeralds are a sacred mineral in Coriolo, and he constructed this pyramid as a shrine to induct himself into godhood and mark himself as the sun’s opposite.”
“And?”
“One day the sun turned dark. Those who worshipped its glow entered a state of stasis, and well, that’s why I’m here. I am a Soul Decreed – I do not worship the sun; the only person I worshipped was my master. She is somewhere. Frozen, likely. But here I am, forced to live until she herself dies.”
“I’m sorry, Karn.”
“Sorry? Don’t be sorry. I swore and oath. I must simply struggle until I manage to find her again. But that warmth … ahh, Shine, that warmth is so nice.” The orange glow folded over Karn’s tattooed skin. His scratchy silver hair fell plainly onto his shoulders, crowning a weatherworn face. Shine reasoned that he must have looked a good twenty or thirty years old, had she not known him to be more than a hundred.
“I want to see the sun, Karn. A promise to a friend. Do you think it’s possible?”
“Yes.” Karn looked down at his tattooed skin. “My master, Lady Larla. She was a Lightkeeper. But …”
“But?” Shine leaned in. Karn chewed his lips.
“No. It’s fine. Well, it’s why I’m tied up here. That fragment of the sun inside of you once lived in me. Spilgree himself had torn its power out from within my arm where my lady had stored it.” As he spoke, his eyes crossed the tattoos that ran a ring around the Larla tattoo, reading them as if it were a book. “I’m not sure why you have it, but if he knew what you had … that’s a piece of pure sun, Shine. If you reached the Lighthouse in Coriolo, you could bring back the light of the sun. I’m sure of it. It’s just … how can one even do that? How c-can I even t-think of opposing Spilgree and escaping here. Such a thing is unfathomable.”
Spilgree’s name sent a shiver through Shine’s spine. She looked out at the colourless sun. Her heart drummed up within her. “We must escape.”
“Escape? Must? We? No no no.”
“What about Lady Larla?”
Karn froze. “What about her? I don’t know anything about Lady Larla.”
“I thought you had made an oath.”
“I had, but I can’t remember the first thing about Lady Larla. To be a Soul Decreed means unswerving loyalty at a cost. I forget her name and face with each sleep. Beyond this—” he nodded to his tattoos “—I know nothing.”
“We must escape,” Shine repeated.
“We can’t! It’s impossible. Don’t you see?” Karn gulped. His face flushed white. “Loyalty to Lady Larla … it’s different to opposing him.”
“It’s not different at all.”
“It’s a world of difference.” Karn’s voice broke as he spoke. He keeled forward as tears ran to his chin. “How can anyone, anyone, oppose that person? He gets to you. He asks questions but he already knows the answers, and then pries out every minute detail from you until there is nothing left, and you regret everything, every minor transgression, that you had ever had the nerve to ever think of. Even now I can feel the crushing guilt I’ll feel as I tell Spilgree everything we had talked about this night. I know the shame that I will feel when I confess the truth of the sun within you.”
“You swore and oath, Karn. You made a promise.”
“You haven’t suffered as I have. You have only lived some twenty odd years. You know nothing of my suffering nor of his cruelty. Go ahead and run. As if I have not already tried a hundred times. At least there will be an end to your misery. Someone else will fix all of this, but I have no part in it.” Karn fell silent, except for when he choked on his tears or threw his head against the pillar.
Shine sighed and looked ahead. She lost herself in the endless darkness ahead.
“Lady Larla must be disappointed to have such a spineless servant.”
“Go back to your pit and be foolish there. This is no place for you.”
Shine let her frustration at Karn swirl about inside her until she fell asleep.