Soulbroken Page 11

  My katana weighed heavy on my back, as if reluctantly making me more aware of its presence in order to present an option to me, a potential solution to my problem. I could sell it. Plenty of Unskilled got along in this world without a katana. I could sell it for trinks and buy myself some much-needed supplies. It would be better than freezing to death.

  I wondered what my father would do if he were ever in the situation that I was. Probably something brilliant. But I didn’t have a second, brilliant option. I had a katana, and an empty pocket.

  A whistle caught my attention, and as I turned around, I spied a short, toothless old man eyeing my weapon with absolute admiration. “That’s a pretty bit of something you got there, miss.”

  Trying not to think too hard about what I was about to do, I said, “You interested? It’s for sale.”

  “A fine piece, for sure. But an old man like me isn’t exactly in the market for such a thing. You might try Perry.” He threw an arm behind him, gesturing to a small, shoddy building at the far end of the carts. “He ain’t fair and he ain’t right, but he’s got the trinks, if you need ‘em. Trinks and no questions.”

  Perry’s money would spend like anybody else’s, but it came with something extra. Something I craved. No questions asked.

  Perry was a fence. I could tell that much just by the way his shop looked, and by the hushed tone the old man had used when saying his name. I'd never sold anything to a fence before. In fact, my parents didn't exactly have the highest opinion of fences. They said that they had a problem with anyone who preys on the weak and helpless, who take advantage of the needy. But wasn't that what I was right now? Needy? And I had only one thing on me that might be worth any amount of trinks.

  With every step I took toward Perry’s building, my katana grew heavier on my back, as if in protest of what I was about to do, as if it had changed its mind and thought selling it was the worst that I could do. But what choice did I have? I had to eat, had to stay warm, had to live. Besides, my katana was largely a weapon to use against Graplars, and I wouldn't be in Graplar territory again for at least another two days. In that time, I was certain I could figure something else out. Though the weight of my katana on my back as I pushed open the door said that it thought differently.

  The door triggered a small bell, announcing my entrance into the crowded space. Not that it was crowded with people, but rather items, forgotten items, covered in cobwebs and a layer of dust that said that no one ever shopped here. I was willing to bet that the only time that little bell ever rang was when some sad soul had come to their wits end, and pushed their way inside to sell off their prized possessions. I could almost hear the katana pleading with me to turn around, go back outside, we'd figure something out. But there was nothing to figure out. I needed the trinks. And the katana was the only item I had on me, apart from my clothes.

  At the far end of the small shop was a tall counter. Behind which sat a very broad man with an unkempt beard. His skin had a sheen to it that suggested he didn’t bathe very often, or at least hadn’t yet this week. He was busy scribbling numbers into an oversized book as I approached. "Excuse me."

  Perry sighed heavily, as if I was such a bother and he was so much better than me. , He dropped his quill in the fold of the book with a grunt. "What you got?"

  For a moment, I stammered, which apparently was the worst thing one could possibly do in a fence's office. He groaned, rolled his eyes, and held out a hand. His fingers were huge, like big sausages dangling from his thick pancake-like palm. "Give it over, girl! What are you selling?"

  With growing hesitance, I reached back and withdrew my katana from its saya. The blade sang softly, whispering its concerns, but I ignored it and placed the sword in his hand. His demeanor changed dramatically. Suddenly, he was all smiles. "Well, look at that. Would you just look at that?"

  I swore I could see a small bit of drool seeping out the corner of his mouth. I felt dirty. I felt wrong. But mostly, I felt out of options.

  He turned the weapon over, marveling at the detail in the blade itself, and in the pommel. I removed the saya from my back and handed it to him. He promptly sheathed it, and returned to his former aloof presence. "Fifty trinks. No more."

  My heart seized inside my chest. It was worth three-hundred, easily. But fences could smell desperation from a mile away. "You've never seen a sword like that before. I want a hundred trinks. No less."

  He wrinkled up his nose and shook his head as he leaned over the counter and sized me up. I could feel his eyes on me, slipping over my body, taking his time. It made me feel filthy, and reminded me too much of the Barron in my parents' cabin. With a grunt, he sat back in his chair and said, "I got four of those in the back room. But because you're so pretty, I'll give you sixty. Take it or leave it."

  It was a lie, and we both knew it was a lie. Standing on my toes, I leaned as far over the counter as I was able to. “Look, Perry. We both know you’ve never seen a blade like that before. And we both know that I wouldn’t be selling it if I didn’t need the trinks. So how about you give me ninety trinks and I don’t tell the local constable what a dek you are when you’re ripping off patrons in your illegal establishment?”

  Perry leaned forward, a menacing gleam in his eyes. “He already knows what a dek I am, girl. The constable is my brother.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. Hard. "Fak."

  “But because I’m feeling friendly, I’ll give you seventy trinks, and you can be on your way.”

  With my lips pursed, I settled heavily back on the soles of my feet.

  A knowing grin spread across his fat face and he set a large canvas coin purse on the counter with a thud. As he dug inside for the lowly amount he'd offered me, he said, "That a girl. What'd I say? Sixty?"

  Deflated, my words came out in a sigh. "Seventy."

  Behind me, the jingling of bells rang as the door opened. It was followed by the soft footfalls of a newcomer as they stepped inside, but only just. "It's a magnificent piece. I'll give you two hundred trinks for it right now."

  The familiarity of that voice sent a wave of relief sweeping over me. I wasn't sure what he was doing, but I was so very thankful that he was doing it. Without turning around, I said, "You've got yourself a deal, stranger."

  Perry’s face dropped with surprise and anger. He shoved the coin purse under the counter once again, muttering the entire time. As the purchaser's hand closed over the handle of my katana, I smiled at Gage, who shrugged casually. "What? I could use a new katana."

  If we hadn't been friends before that moment, we most certainly were after it. His act of kindness at buying my sword hadn't been asked for or expected at all. He'd simply done what it was that I'd needed for him to do, without my even realizing it. Gage was a good friend, even if he was a new friend. I wondered if he knew that.

  And better that the sword be purchased by a friend than by a slimy fence like Perry any day.

  As we exited, he handed me a small velvet bag of trinks and held the katana up. "Mind carrying it for me? Two's a bit on the awkward side."

  Clutching the bag in my grateful hand, I reached for my katana and slid it onto my back. "Thanks."

  "I don't understand exactly why you're thanking me. It is my katana, after all. I should thank you for carrying it." The expression on his face was one of pure seriousness, and I wasn't exactly sure what he meant by it. He'd obviously bought the sword from me in order to rescue it from that slimy fence and give me trinks without hurting my pride. Hadn't he?

  A long, awkward moment passed. Then Gage winked at me and all was right with the world.

  As we passed various merchant's carts, Gage pointed out various items that might be useful along my journey. I purchased a light wool blanket and a new satchel from one, and he talked me into buying a small medical kit containing needles, bandages, and antiseptic salve from another. He tried to talk me into buying a bundle of herbs, but I pointed out to him that I was quite capable of locating the herbs I needed.

/>   "Ahh, but do you have a dagger? There are plenty of herbs that lose their potency if not collected correctly. And for many of those, that means a quick cut just above the roots." He nodded thoughtfully as we approached a weaponry cart full of several varieties of daggers, throwing darts, and swords--none of which were katanas.

  Poking him in the side, I grinned. "Are you sure you're not a Healer?"

  "If only. Muckshrooms, remember?" His smirk deepened and then he reached behind his back, withdrawing a small blade from his belt. The handle was simple enough, smooth wood, and well worn, like it had been used by generations before him. The blade itself was strange and black, with an odd purple sheen to it as he moved it through the light. It was a beautiful dagger, indeed. "Look at mine. Something like this is excellent for killing small game, gathering herbs, and engaging in close combat, if you have to. An essential tool for a traveler."

  He was right. No Barron would never use their katana for hunting. A katana was a warrior’s partner in combat. Not a simple tool used for slashing the throats of small game.

  Peering into my coin purse, I frowned. "I don't think I have enough trinks left for a dagger."

  He returned his blade to his belt before examining the selection of daggers on the weaponry cart. Satisfied with what he saw, he handed me a small, silver blade and passed a handful of trinks to the merchant with a nod. "This one's on me. Because you should really have one. Can't be too careful when you're travelling."

  I wordlessly accepted his gift--mostly because I couldn't summon the words to thank him enough. For building my fire, for rescuing my katana from the greedy fence, and now, for purchasing a valuable tool for me without implying that I should pay him back in any way.

  From one cart, I purchased a thick cloak made of soft brown wool. At its neck was an ornate silver clasp, and I marveled at the intricate designs in the metal. The brown would blend well in the woods, no matter the season. I also managed to bargain for a couple of water bladders, which were great for carrying water, and if the snows came, one could fill it with snow and keep it close to one's body, melting the snow into drinkable portable water. Beyond that, I purchased a loaf of butterbread, and a variety of dried meats, fruits and nuts--enough to last me at least a week, especially if I supplemented it with fresh vegetables and live kill. Once all of my supplies were tucked carefully inside my satchel, Gage and I made our way to the edge of town. As we walked, I marveled once again at the fire breathers and jugglers, wishing that this trek to Drago resembled those of my past. My heart yearned to see my mother laughing at the jugglers’ jokes and chatting happily with me about what deals she'd managed to acquire just by bartering her bright fabrics. But those things were the past. My mother wasn't here, wasn't anywhere that I could find. I was alone in my travels, apart from the brief company of a new friend.

  "Fudgepod?"

  I blinked at Gage in confusion at his random outburst. "Excuse me?"

  He pointed just over my shoulder to an especially busy foodcart. The merchant who was operating the cart was dipping large orbs of fudge into a vat of melted chocolate before rolling it in cocoa shavings. The sight of the treat made my mouth water. Gage sighed with longing. "They look terribly tempting, don't they? Would you join me in trying one?"

  He didn't wait for me to reply or to respond in any way. He merely turned, hurried toward the cart, and returned with two exceptionally large, still-warm fudgepods. As he shoved one into my hands, he stuffed the other into his mouth and chewed, releasing sounds of pure bliss between bites. I bit into the dessert, and closed my eyes as the chocolate concoction melted on my tongue. I'd expected it to be overwhelmingly rich, but it wasn't. Chocolate spilled warmly into my mouth, like gooey cake and fudge. And as I swallowed, I regretted that each bite would never be available to taste again. We finished our treats wordlessly, and when we were each licking our fingers clean, we exchanged the brightest of smiles, but it was Gage who first put words to our shared opinion. "That was a bit of bliss."

  His eyes sparkled at me in the firelight of the fire breather's tools. But the moment didn't last. The fudgepod cart exploded into a thousand pieces, cutting off our exchange. Splinters and chunks of wood shot past my face and I turned my head quickly to avoid them, sucking in my breath. A hundred voices rose in screams and suddenly, there was movement where little had been before. People ran this way and that in a desperate attempt to escape an unseen foe. I hadn't even realized that I'd withdrawn my katana until I saw the weapon in my hand. When I darted my eyes to Gage, I was relieved to see his katana in his hand as well.

  Resisting the urge to spin around, I surveyed the crowd, moving my eyes quickly over where the fudgepod cart had once been. Shards of wood littered the ground. Children sobbed. But the cause of the explosion was still on the move, tossing people from its path as it moved through the crowd. As it rampaged, the citizens of Drago became a river of terrified screams, flowing down the street, ebbing inside whatever building they lapped upon. A small girl stood in the middle of the street, clutching her ragdoll to her chest, sobbing with abandon. She was alone, with no parents or family in the vicinity. Completely and utterly unprotected and vulnerable. My grip tightened on the pommel of my weapon. And that's when I met eyes with the Graplar.

  It stood taller than any that I had encountered before. Its blue scales had dulled with age. Its black, soulless eyes spoke of an unending, demanding hunger that would not be satiated. And though it was looking at me, when I saw its nostrils contract slightly, I knew that it was smelling the girl's scent. The beast intended to devour her whole, a small nibble before biting, chewing, swallowing its way through the town. My eyes moved back to the girl. It only took a second, but as I looked at the tiny braids in her hair, all I could see were images of Avery from our childhood. I took two quick steps and jumped, landing between the hungry Graplar and the girl, eyeing the monster down. "Come on, you filthy dek. Come at me already."

  As if in wordless response to my taunt, the Graplar reared up on its hind legs, howling into the air. Its massive jaws parted to reveal several rows of razor sharp teeth. Drool glistened in long strands between those jaws, and when it returned to all fours, its jaws snapped closed, echoing in my ears, its massive feet pounding as they hit the dirt. I readied my katana, and it broke into a run.

  My heart raced faster and faster with each pounding step the Graplar took toward me, toward the little girl. She remained behind me, her sobs filling my ears, too frightened to run away. The beast jumped, its mouth opening, and I swung my blade. But my aim was off. I caught the creature in the corner of its mouth. It reeled for a moment, then whipped its head around and bit into my shoulder, its mouth wrapping around my body. Anguished cries hit my ears, and I instantly wondered if they were coming from the girl. But then my throat was raw and I knew that that sound had come from me. The beast tossed its head hard to the side and then I was flying.

  My shoulder screamed as I crashed into a nearby foodcart, knocking various loaves and bready goods down all around me. I barely took a moment to breathe. That thing intended to kill the little girl, and I'd be damned if an innocent child was going to die on my watch.

  Briefly, quickly, the day I'd spent with Darius at Wood's Cross flashed through my mind. Darius heard children's cries every time he reached for his sword. The depth of that weighed heavily in my chest as I scrambled to my feet and hurried to locate my sword.

  My katana laid merely feet away from the little girl. I dove for it, but as I did, the Graplar gnashed its horrible jaws forward, plucking up the girl with abandon. My screams solidified in my chest. I watched as her blood trickled from the corner of its mouth. I stared at her well-loved ragdoll as it fell to the ground. The girl was dead and gone. I'd failed.

  Just as I'd failed to save Avery. Just as I'd failed to save anyone that had ever counted on me.

  I stood, my emotions stilted and numb, watching as Gage engaged the beast. He chased it down the main road, away from the innocent, confused people of Drago,
and I didn't question it. I was simply relieved that he did. No one else needed to die tonight.

  It wasn't until Gage returned a moment later, covered in the beast's blood, that I could feel any emotion at all. I shoved him, hard, my angry, frustrated hands on his chest. "Where were you? We could've stopped it, Gage! Together we could have stopped it! Where were you?"

  Gage's face paled, his smirk nowhere to be seen.

  Plucking the girl's doll from the street, I clutched it to my chest, sobs welling up from inside of me. It was my fault that she was dead. I should have moved faster. I should have struck with more certainty. I should have...I could have...

  And what's worse, I knew her. The dawning realization deepened my sobs when it occurred to me that I had seen the little girl before. She was the granddaughter of the silk dealer my mother regularly traded with. I'd failed her, failed her grandmother, failed my mother. Worse, much worse, I'd failed an innocent child. I wept into the doll's hair, thankful at least that Gage did not speak, didn't touch me or try to comfort me in any way.

  Cries came from down the street as a woman approached full run. I recognized her instantly as the silk dealer, the girl's grandmother. Her face was contorted in anguish, her cheeks awash with tears. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around me and cried.

  My legs were trembling, my heart beating erratically. At last, she did speak, but only in whispers. "I saw what you did, girl, or what you and that boy tried to do. You have to help us. We've had three attacks by these...these things...in as many months."

  My heart sank. Graplars attacking an Unskilled village? Apart from the attack that had resulted in Avery's death in Kessler, such a thing was almost unheard of. Why would Graplars come here? They preferred the higher elevations.

  The woman spoke through her tears. "Please, stop them before someone else dies. Before someone else loses their granddaughter."