Ethan Wright and the Curse of Silence (20 page)

“It’s just that, well, I’m looking for him. We were hoping you could tell us something … maybe where to find him?” ventured Ethan.

“Well, I haven’t seen him around here in ages, but I know where you could start — Losalfar.”

“Can you tell us how to get to … Losalfar?”

“Sure, just go out the North Gate, down the path, through the woods, head north and try to avoid certain death. It’s about two days’ hike — can’t miss it.”

“Wait, did you say certain death?” asked Auren.

“Yep, pretty sure I did.”

“Is there any way to get there without the
dying
part?” asked Ethan.

“Yeah, I’m kinda interested in skipping that as well,” smirked Auren.

“I’m sure there is, lads — but most here in Tirguard try their best to stay inside the walls. You should do the same. Now then, thanks for helpin’ me out with the announcement today — and hey, stick around and I’ll have you meet some of our
mighty warriors
,” added Red in his deep announcer’s voice.

Not a moment had passed, when one of the Stadion champions came up the stairs behind them.

“Greetings, glad you could make it,” said a familiar voice.

“This is Magnus the Grand, for he has been our defending Stadion Champion for many years now,” announced Red as if he were addressing the audience.

“Yeah, we already sorta met,” answered Ethan. “Thanks for bringing us armor. You saved our skins from Heinrich.”

“I’m glad I could help. How’s the hand?”

Ethan held his hand out and flipped it to show Magnus both sides. “It’s good,” he answered.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. When I heard the announcement that you were here, I wanted to make a proper introduction. Auren, I hold the very highest respect for your father; he has set records that
to this day
have not been broken. I could only hope to be half the champion he was,” said Magnus humbly.

“Oh …” replied Auren. “Well … that’s my old man….” Auren was relishing the fact that he was getting much of the attention, instead of Ethan.

“I was wondering … would you care to come down and give the spear a hurl? It would do me great honor to have the son of Ghislain out to …”

No sooner did the words leave his lips when he was interrupted by Auren. “
Would I
? Of
course
I will!” he exclaimed, with an excitement that Ethan had never witnessed in his friend.

Magnus led Auren down the steps and they entered the floor of the grand Stadion. It was not long until Auren heard the bellowing of Red, yelling to the crowd what was about to take place. Hearing the announcement, Auren began to get rather nervous.

“Ah, Magnus, I haven’t … exactly thrown a spear before,” confessed Auren, embarrassed.

“No problem, Auren, this is only an exhibition, so no pressure,” said Magnus as they approached a weapons rack. He took one of the polished metal spears and handed it to Auren. “It’s easy,” he added.

“Light,” said Auren in a surprised voice.

The spear was very long and felt awkwardly balanced. Magnus, too, had taken a spear and Auren saw that he was holding it by what appeared to be a notched-in handle. Auren shifted his grip to mimic Magnus, and suddenly felt the balance right itself.

“Yes … light in weight, but very effective,” said Magnus, who now had Auren’s attention. The Stadion Champion began to give him a rundown of all the rules.

“Now then, the circle we are standing in is called the starting ring; you may not leave the starting ring until you have released the spear or you will throw dead, which means you forfeit your turn. There is a wood-framed rectangular target on that side of the field,” Magnus pointed to the other end, which seemed an impossible distance away.

“That box is called the Pyxidis, and the key is — well the key is to hit the Pyxidis if you can. If you do hit it, you get five points. Now then, around the Pyxidis is a wood-framed square. This is called the Archa. Hit inside the Archa and you get three points. And around the Archa is a large circle, which is called the Rail. You don’t get any points for getting inside the Rail, but you earn one and only one extra throw. Do you follow so far?”

Auren was a bit overwhelmed, and confident that he would be unable to reach any of the boxes or circles Magnus had pointed to, so he just nodded.

“Great, you get three tries. I find it works best if you take a few steps and lunge it as hard as you can. Keep in mind this contest is as much about accuracy as it is about strength. Are you ready to give it a try?”

Auren nodded again and Magnus took a few steps backward to give him some room. Red, of course, took this chance to announce ‘Auren, son of Ghislain’s’ first attempt. This made Auren’s stomach tie into knots, but the cheering of the crowd reassured him. He took three giant steps, leaned forward, and plunged the spear straight into the ground about ten paces away. The crowd was unrelenting; half were laughing and the other half hooted and booed.

Magnus approached with another spear. “Don’t worry about Red and the crowd, I can see you are very strong so just aim a bit higher — your form wasn’t too bad.”

Magnus backed up again, giving Auren space to throw. Red bellowed out that Auren was going to attempt a second try. Auren thought to himself that this was very difficult to ignore, for the chunky man had an extremely deep and loud voice. He gripped the spear tightly on the notched handle, took his three steps, leaned forward and hurled the spear. This time, even to his own surprise, he let out a loud
grunt
while releasing the spear. This seemed to help, for it went much higher. But a few seconds later, the crowd grew quiet. The spear sailed right over the Pyxidis and was heading for the stands. A small crowd of people dispersed and the spear impaled a wooden bench, wobbling a bit as it stuck.

Ethan, who was still watching from above, looked over to Red who was strangely silent. “Ah, Red … is that supposed to happen?” he asked.

“I … don’t know,” answered Red in an abnormally quiet voice. “Never seen that one before.”

“Have you ever seen such strength!” bellowed Red to the crowd.

A few moments passed as the spear swayed back and forth and then the crowd erupted into cheers. Auren was not sure what the cheers were for; it seemed obvious to him that he could have impaled one of the spectators. He assumed he would be done at this point, but Magnus approached with a third spear.

“Are you sure…?” but Auren was interrupted by Magnus.

“We’re lucky this isn’t a distance competition. You may want to concentrate on accuracy and not so much strength. Give it a bit more arch this time.”

Again, Auren nodded. Red was announcing the third and final throw. This time Auren could see some of the spectators moving from the path of another possible spear landing in the stands.

Auren made his approach and released the spear. Again he grunted, but this time he aimed much higher and the spear sailed far above the Stadion. Magnus walked over to Auren while trying to keep an eye on the spear.

“Not sure about that one — did it get away from you?”

Just then the spear drove itself deep into the very edge of the center box, sending a small cloud of splinters in every direction.

“Oh, you hit the Pyxidis, that’s five points!” exclaimed Magnus as he patted Auren on the shoulder. “Not too bad for your first time out.”

The crowd was in an uproar as they cheered out Auren’s name. Red was saying something, but even his loud bellows could not overpower the cheers of the crowd. Auren gave a wave and made his way off the field alongside Magnus.

Ethan looked back over to Red, who was now sitting down and wiping sweat off his forehead. “You just can’t get much better than that, my boy,” said Red, sounding exhausted.

Soon Magnus and Auren returned to the announcer’s room where Ethan and the tubby man were waiting.

“Thanks again, Magnus, that was
incredible
,” said Auren with a huge smile on his face.

“The pleasure was all mine,” said Magnus as he shook hands with both the boys. “If you boys need anything, please let me know. But now I have to get back before the next event.”

“So much for keeping a low profile,” said Availia as she came up the stairs, with Stanley just behind her.

“Well, if everyone thinks we’re here … we should have an easy time sneaking down to the prison,” plotted Ethan.

The four snuck out of the grand Stadion unnoticed and headed toward the spire, home to the one man Ethan wished to avoid that night.

“I don’t see any light coming from the window,” whispered Auren.

“Maybe Heinrich isn’t around,” replied Availia softly.

“Well, hopefully he isn’t at the prison then. Stanley, are you sure the prison is just below the spire?” asked Ethan, now worried that his plan was in possible jeopardy.

Stanley nodded intently.

“Well, let’s go then,” Ethan motioned.

They followed Stanley to a building across the street from the spire and stood behind him as he peeked around the corner. As Ethan looked around the corner, Stanley pointed to a ramp that led down to a small wooden door that was the prison entrance. There were chairs on either side of the door, with guards sitting on each chair.

“Guards? Terrific … Stanley, you didn’t say anything about guards — we’ll never get in there now,” grumbled Auren.

“No, wait!” said Availia, peeking around the corner. “There’s something wrong with them,” she added as she stood up and walked toward the entrance.

“Availia, wait!” exclaimed Ethan.

The three boys shrugged their shoulders and reluctantly followed Availia to the prison door. Both guards were unconscious and positioned in their seats so as not to fall over.

“Not sure if we should be here, it would look bad if we got caught,” said Auren. “We could always go back to the Stadion and finish watching the events.”

Auren’s protests went unnoticed.

Ethan marched forward and pushed the wooden door open. The others followed him as he walked down the torchlit hallway. It smelled like sewage and mold. They passed several empty cells before they reached the end of the hall and turned the corner. The iron doors were just large enough to stuff a person through, but the prison walls, like the rest of Tirgard, were thick stone. Ethan stuck his nose between the bars of several cells, until he found a cell with MacArthur huddling in the corner.

“I would surmise that Heinrich didn’t just let you in here to visit,” groaned MacArthur. He pushed himself up off the floor and limped to the iron door. He looked scruffier than usual, reminding Ethan of what Wegnel looked like in his normal state.

“No, we snuck in,” answered Ethan. “How are you?”

“Not good, my boy. Being so far away from the Oroborus, I am already starting to merge with my counterpart. I feel as if I am going to lose it….” MacArthur sniffed, then regained his composure and continued. “Wegnel is most likely going mad at this point, I can start to feel his thoughts — he’s scared. I don’t have much time,” exclaimed MacArthur desperately. He reached his hands through the bars and pulled Ethan close. “When I was first bound to the creature … Dimon, he said I could ask him a question — any question.”

“What did you ask him?”

“I asked him why we are here… why do we
exist?
He said ‘that’s easy — because the conditions were right.”‘

Ethan tried to back away but was pulled in closer.

“Ethan, you must listen to me very carefully,” whispered McArthur frantically. He seemed urgent as he tried to catch his breath. “There is a natural progression to life — seven worlds — each a progression from one life to the next — humans, Mitans, Airmoor… it’s all the same — one big game, Ethan… played… one Oroborus versus another — a grand game of chess. You are important, Ethan… you mustn’t let Xivon know you’re here. He’s the most dangerous Mitan in this world and is bent on seeking you out. And once again, the conditions are right — you can win this game!”

“I don’t know what you’re saying, MacArthur. I need to find my brother!”

Suddenly a voice echoed out directly behind them. “What are you doing here!” yelled Edison, carrying something that looked like one of Wegnel’s miracle torches.

“We need to find out about the Stonewolf,” answered Availia quickly. “We came to find out why it has stone skin.”

“It has stone skin because it was an alchemist from Tirguard. Being a historian, I could have told you that without you breaking into a prison. Do you realize how much trouble you could be in? I can’t hardly explain this one away, now can I?”

“What about the guards out front, can you explain that?” challenged Ethan rashly.

“They’ll be fine. Just some Lippy’s Concentrated Sleep Sauce in the guards’ tea — they’ll be over it by morning.”

Edison pushed past Ethan and peered in the cell. “You don’t look so good, my friend.”

“I’ve been better,” replied MacArthur. “Wegnel, I fear, is in far worse condition.”

“Will you merge soon?” asked Edison.

“I still have some time, Edison — more importantly, I overheard Heinrich earlier. They are going to start a war … tonight.”

A look of worry came over Edison. Sweat rolled down his forehead and his face went pale. He refocused on MacArthur.

“I had a suspicion this would happen after the Curse of Silence ended … what do we do?” asked Edison.

“Heinrich talked the Castellan into sending an army to Losalfar. And in an attempt to avoid panic throughout the city, they are using the Stadion event as a distraction to send the army out as we speak.”

“Is Heinrich with them?” whispered Edison.

“Yes, he and General Lodbrok are leading the attack.”

Edison backed away from the bars. “I’m going to Losalfar tonight — you will all have to work on getting MacArthur free from prison and back to the Oroborus.”

“We’re going with you,” announced Ethan.

“You most certainly will not,” snapped Edison, who was in no mood for arguing.

Ethan stepped forward and looked Edison in the eyes. “There is a chance I can find my brother in Losalfar — there is nothing you can do that will change my mind from going.”