Secret Worlds (328 page)

“We haven’t received word of them or seen them otherwise.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re not here.”

I gazed at him quizzically.

He sighed and twisted to face me. “Ghadel is known to house many of the races both known and unknown to humans. It’s likely that they went into hiding here or in other cities that hold citadels.” He gestured to the towering castle above. “Either way, we are bound to gain some allies here. And this is the best way to gather a group to help search for our daughter.”

I expelled a large breath of air as if it would lessen the weight on my shoulders and leaned up against the wall with Marren standing in front of the gates. I jumped when he yelled, “Gatekeeper!”

I removed myself from the wall, taking my place behind Marren. I watched as a tiny man, too skinny to be considered a dwarf, approached the gate. As he got closer, I knew there could be only two things that could explain his stature. Either he was half-dwarf or he didn’t like eating nearly as much as every other one I knew. He eyed us suspiciously.

“What be y’er business in Yerr, the Guardian City?” His voice was raspy and worn with age, though he didn’t appear older than thirty or so.

“Our daughter was taken from us. The man we believe is behind her disappearance has ties to this city. We believe she could be here.”

“Not possible. No one gets through these gates without my say so, and no one has passed through in three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” I asked not bothering to hide my desperation.

“Aye,” replied the small man. “Remove the hoods.”

Both Marren and I stiffened and hesitated long enough for the man to stare at us and squint like he could see through the shadows.

“I said remove the hoods.”

With a sigh, I removed my hood and stared into the short man’s eyes. The color I knew he searched for would surely prevent our passing through. Marren slowly removed his hood as well. The man didn’t seem at all surprised by our appearance. Maybe he was dwarf after all?
Could this be a sign in our favor?

With a sigh, the man wobbled over to a small wooden stool and took a seat. He pulled out a pipe from a leather pouch at his side and struck a match to light it. He puffed a few times and crossed his legs, resting his hand, pipe and all, over his bent knee.

We stood, waiting patiently for him to say something or do something other than stare at us.

Marren…

Just wait.

But we are running out of time!

Patience, please. I want to find our girl, too.

As if he could listen to our internal conversation he inhaled another puff of his pipe, exhaled it in a dramatic heave, and then said, “No.”

“No?” Marren asked.

“No,” the little man replied.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because, I can lose my head over this. Speaking to you may cost me my life.”

“But no one has to know! We won’t tell anyone. I promise! Please let us through. Please let us find our daughter!” Tears started to fill my eyes, forcing my vision to blur and the short man to become a blob of mixed color rather than a solid figure.

“Ya wouldn’t need to. The king keeps eyes on this gate at all times. Not one person comes in here without his knowledge.”

I tried to ignore the way he spoke king. It was as if he had a personal disdain for this man.

“Surely there is a way,” Marren insisted.

“No.” The man stood then placed his pipe on the seat of his small stool and approached the gate. In a low voice, he said, “Come back at dark. Hoods up. I’ll help ya in. Anything to bring this bastard down.”

Before I could inquire what he meant, he started waving his hands and yelled, “Now be gone before ya lose your heads!”

Come on,
Marren said in our private way.
We should do what the man says.

Reluctantly, I followed Marren into the woods and waited not so patiently for nightfall.

Marren and I walked deep enough into the woods that no one would see us and hopefully wouldn’t bump into any human hunting parties. When night had claimed the last of the sun, we walked back. Careful of the ever watchful eye of the king’s men high above, we sheltered ourselves under our hoods and stuck to the thicker of the shadows, avoiding all light, as much as possible. The walls were lined with sconces. Most having yet to be lit or having already gone out for one reason or another.

We approached the gate carefully. I peered through to find if our friend kept his word. I didn’t find him. There was no evidence of him anywhere. The stool was gone. No pipe smoke lingered in the air. The sconces that lined the wall on either side of the path were lit, shining on everything in sight, leaving no room for shadows.

What do we do now, Marren?

We wait.
Even in thoughts, his words came calm and even.

What if it’s a trap?

Either way, we get into the city.

And what then?
I turned to face him.
What if our daughter isn’t here? What do you suppose we do then?

He moved closer to me, taking my hands into his. Emotions of hope filled me. His hope. I sighed, dropping my head to his chest. The night air had cooled considerably. My breath emerged from my mouth in a small puff of fog. Marren rested his chin on my head and smoothed the back of my hood with his hand. His warmth poured into me with his hope. My mood shifted slowly.

A snapping branch sounded through the woods. The sound carried on the air, replacing the warmth in me with a sudden and complete chill. Marren stiffened around me. He stood like a statue of solid armor. I knew I didn’t need to ask, but the words escaped me before I could stop them.

“Did you hear that?” I whispered.

One movement was all I got in a reply. One slow and deliberate nod of his head against mine.

Another snapping branch sounded.

We stood motionless, waiting for whatever made that sound to find us and turn us in. My stomach clenched with anxiety, my body started to shake uncontrollably. It was a trap. We would be brought into the city and lose our heads. All for money. The small man was definitely not a dwarf. Dwarfs possess more honor and respect for Marren than that.

Something flew through the air and hit me on my leg. I moved to glimpse what it was, but Marren seemed frozen solid, preventing me. I poked him in his side. Nope, not frozen. He moved enough for me to spot a twig at my feet. I jumped when another one, larger than the first, stopped at my feet, after it bounced off the wall behind us.

My eyes met Marren’s. We didn’t need to share our thoughts to know we thought the same thing. Both of us turned our attention toward the woods. After glancing back to me and holding up his hand to symbolize his desire for me to stay put, he walked toward the spot he thought the twigs came from.

The woods held an outline of a pale aura. Not nearly as strong as the auras on the immortal realm, but strong enough for me to discern a hunched over figure within the trees, barely visible against the bushes he sat within.

Marren approached slowly with his hands up, palms out. I barely caught the words he exchanged, but his body relaxed, which allowed me to do the same. His words reached into my mind with soothing comfort.
It’s okay. It’s the gatekeeper.

I let out a heavy sigh; a breath I didn’t realize I held. Letting it out was almost as if a weight lifted from my chest. I took my place next to Marren.

The gatekeeper stood, removing himself from the bushes. He was cloaked, nearly as heavily as Marren and I was. His eyes assessed me as much as mine had of him.

With a nod, he said, “Alright, follow me. Stay close and out of the light…not that ya need that much.”

He muttered the last part. It was heavily concealed within an exhaled breath. I’m not sure that even Marren caught on. I stared at him questioningly. He seemed oblivious, preferring to keep his eyes forward. I considered asking him what held his thoughts but decided better of it.

We followed the gatekeeper through the woods, sticking near the edge of the trees. It kept the wall of the city in sight. We stopped at a small stream where the runoff came from an archway barred with iron, rusted with age and exposure and large enough to crawl through. From the appearance of the wall, and the side of the castle that towered above, we stood on the back end of the city. The torches were extinguished, leaving the wall and everything around us shrouded in darkness. Even the moon’s light seemed far too pale to reveal much more than fleeting shadows. No one would know we were here.

“The iron bars aren’t solid. The races that came back ‘accidentally’ found this and decided that they could use a way in and out of the city without detection,” the gatekeeper said.

“They?” I asked.

He nodded. “Ye’ll see.” He moved over toward the arched iron bars and pulled them free from the wall with little noise. He set it to the side, then motioned for me to go in. I hesitated, staring at Marren, hoping he would argue my being first. He only nodded once, crushing my hopes of him intervening.

I approached the opening, dropping to my hands and knees. The cold water seeped into my clothing and skin. It reached into every nerve ending, threatening to freeze me solid. At the far end, something twinkled. Quickly, I dismissed it and glanced one last time behind me at Marren, now standing in the water beside me. With a smile from him, I returned my gaze ahead of me and started to crawl through.

The tunnel was dark. Nothing gave off an aura. I swallowed the lump in my throat that reminded me of the time I was in the Tombcell. Everything in my situation had mimicked the other in all of the most frightening ways. The dark, the damp, the tight space, the way the air seemed so much thicker and harder to breathe. A small surge of panic inside me, adding to the already cramped space.

A wave a fresh air entered my nose. It was cold and carried a high level of stone and iron. Everything was quiet around the opening, but clambering in the distance came as if there was just as much business after dark as during the day. Or there was a celebration. Either way, no one would be paying much attention to strange figures in black robes crawling from the city’s runoff.

I poked my head out, keeping my eyes alert to any movement. Stacked against the walls were wagons and old broken down carts. This must have been storage of some sort, long forgotten and unvisited. All the better. I crawled out and noted that the iron bars that sealed the runoff rested against the wall to the side of the opening. A roof made from wooden shakes provided shelter above us. We were well hidden.

Marren crawled out, along with the small man who had done more for us than any other stranger would do. I had to know why. I waited for him to finish replacing the bars into the opening and dusting his pants off before I said, “I don’t understand one thing. Perhaps you could clear it up for me?”

His eyes were clear, free from emotion, but his lips pressed together in a soft, yet firm smirk and ever so slightly, his jaw clenched. “Anything.”

“Why help us?”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Relena, not right now,” Marren said.

“Yes, right now, Marren. I want to know why he’s so willing and eager to help us after such little propositioning while everyone else in the world would happily behead us without a moment’s thought.” My eyes never left the man’s. Nor did his leave mine.

“It’s quite all right. I’ll answer her question.” His eyes clouded slightly, and in a lower voice. he said, “As ye can see, I’m short in stature, far too thin to be a dwarf, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not part-blooded.”

He paused as he lifted his head proudly into the air.

“My grandfather was full-blooded dwarf. He was all I had. All that tied me to my heritage…to who I am. My mother was human. My father, a dwarf. It caused friction within my father’s family, and so they disowned him until my birth. When I came out short in stature, my grandfather made an appearance and continued to be in my life regularly throughout my years.

“Mother endured constant ridicule by everyone in our village. People would refuse to trade with her and would speak openly about her actions as if she wasn’t standin’ there. It killed her. And my father, who spent his years trying to hunt for food and build a roof over our heads, followed her within weeks.”

He shook his head, as if he thought that would shake the tears that had formed in his eyes. He took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly with his hands on his hips.

“My grandfather returned six months after their passing. He stayed with me until I grew into manhood. Then, the king offered me a job. I refused. His retaliation was a public execution. The whole town watched as my grandfather lost his head. I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t know how to! My only choice was to work for the king. As the gatekeeper.”

All that time I listened to his short and very sad story. I couldn’t help but be beside myself in my brash and unfounded emotions toward this man. Especially guilt. “What is your name?”

“Gandir.” Instead of saying it proudly, he spoke as though he had just been told he was doomed to die in the next few moments. His shoulders slouched with arms slack at his side and eyes remaining low.

I approached him, dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms tightly around him. He stiffened for only one small moment then relaxed.

“You are more than your blood. Your parents and grandfather would be proud of you. Thank you for helping us.”

“Ahem. Uh, yes, well…” He took a step back, pulling free from my hold.

I stood.

“Where to now, Gandir?” Marren asked, taking a hold of my hand. Our eyes met, and for a moment, pride and awe shone through them.

“Uh…oh, right. Follow me.”

We followed Gandir out of the covered shelter for the broken down wagons and carts to the side of a building that stretched above the wall. Windows were alight with blinking candles and a soft orange glow behind them. Murmurs of undecipherable chatter blended into one another, and the smell of ale and spice flowed from the openings. It reminded me of the inn, during one of its busiest seasons.