Chapter 47: Chapter 47: Sara

Sara had a plan.

It wasn’t a very thought-out plan, she had to admit, but having plans was a privilege the real world had always denied her.

It was about time to correct that.

After slipping away from the fire in the street, Sara made her way straight to the castle on the northern end of the city. She kept to the shadows at first, before it became obvious no one suspected the girl walking by herself had anything to do with the explosion that happened ten blocks away. So, as the late summer sun hung low in the sky, she allowed herself to walk in its rays, feeling the warmth on her skin. It was a different sort of heat from the fire inside her, and it made her feel different too.

She liked different. She liked being different.

The streets grew narrow and winding. Trees loomed tall on either side, cutting out the bustle of the city. In front of her, Sara spotted the castle looming over the hill. It was a structure of bronze and steel, with yellow flags flying from broken spires.

She stepped off the path, making way for a carriage to pass through. The driver was an old man and it made Sara wonder if Jack was even going to be inside the castle. There was no way to know without going in though, so she hurried on, chasing the sun as it set over the top of the castle.

By the time she reached the double bronze gates, the castle’s walls were lit up by torches. A line was forming on the bridge, made up of peasants and merchants alike. They were shouting at the guards, though Sara could only pick out snippets as she approached.

They seemed to all revolve around someone called the Bastard King.

Sara stood at the back of the line. The man in front of her turned, looked her up and down and said, “Here to get your whore money?”

Sara scowled. “Excuse you.”

The man gestured to the line. “I do loathe to bring bad news, but the world is falling apart. Mad King Stryde is rumored to have been assassinated and now everyone in Bronzehaven is trying to take their money and flee south. You shouldn’t expect to get paid for any… work, is all I’m saying.”

Sara leaned past to look at the gate. They were old and weary. The bronze, or whatever metal originally made them, had been reduced to a patchwork of iron and wood. Huge sections along the edges were almost black with oxidation, and many of the rivets were missing, the holes dark in the flickering torchlight.

Six guards stood under the gate. They held polearms taller than their heads and were clad in armor as aged as the gate itself. Unlike the guards at the city gates, however, these men barely even moved as the indignant citizens shouted and threw cabbages at them.

One of them even yawned.

Sara wondered out loud if maybe this was a reoccurring thing.

“I’ve been here since morning.” The man in front of her shook his head and spat into the moat. “My mistake. Shouldn’t have waited so long to start abandoning the Bastard King.”

“Are you allowed to call a king that?” Sara asked.

The man chuckled. “Look around you. Not many are on Rychard’s side. If the Bastard King wishes to change his image by punishment, he better start making rope, and a lot of it.”

It was clear Sara wasn’t going to get into the castle by conventional means. She had to look for another way. She craned her head to see how high the castle’s walls were. She could probably jump it, maybe. Brushing past the man, she started making her way to the front of the line.

The first thing she noticed about the guards was that three of them were sleeping standing up. Two were chatting and the last one looked like a scarecrow dressed in armor.

She went to the two who were still awake.

“I need to get in.”

The guards broke from their conversation to look at her. Snickering, one of them said, “I’d like to get in you.”

“God,” said Sara. “Is everyone in this world so horny, or just ugly people like you?”

The guard pulled back, looking genuinely upset. His friend stepped in.

“What do you want?”

Stolen story; please report.

Sara pointed to the stairs leading into the castle grounds. “I want. To go. In there.”

“Well,” said the guard. “You can’t. The King is resting and will see no visitors.”

One of the civilians shouted, “The Bastard King is hiding from us!”

“Now, now,” said the guard. “The Bas- I mean the King had a long day.”

Sara did not have the patience for this. She pushed past the guard, sending him stumbling onto his butt.

Everyone laughed.

“Look! The Bastard King keeps strawmen as guards!”

The guard, red-faced, got up and grabbed at Sara. She sidestepped him and stuck her foot out, tripping him.

Laughter soared. The other guards woke up. Seeing what had happened, they joined in the ridicule.

On the ground, the embarrassed guard fumed. He pulled out his short sword and clambered to her feet. It was a narrow blade, oiled to a shine, and had a hilt of black leather.

“Now you’ve done it,” he said. “I’m going to teach you a lesson with my father’s sword, little girl. I don’t care if you’re-”

Sara swept the man’s legs out from under him. He fell sideways, head cracking against the stone.

“What is going here?” From atop the stairs, the masked girl emerged like the sun. “Why are you all laughing?”

Flowing robes blossoming around her, the girl’s masked face turned to survey the grounds below, stopping when she saw Sara.

“Just the woman I want to see,” Sara said. She bent down and picked up the shortsword from the unconscious guard. It fit surprisingly snug in her hand, and the length was just right. She gave it a practice swing.

Laughter stopped as the five other guards scrambled for their weapons, but the masked girl’s order stopped them. “Let her through. You’ll be throwing your lives away trying to stop her.” With a flourish of her robes, she disappeared into the castle halls.

Sara stuck her tongue out at the guards, then sprang up the stairs, leaving the complaining citizens behind.

The castle’s insides were rotten. Mildew sprouted within the walls and the once-lush carpet looked like it was suffering from premature baldness.

The masked girl stood at the end of the hallway, her hands clasped together. Sara held her sword ready. She would fight if the need arose, but when she approached, the masked girl began walking again.

Who does she think she is? The White Rabbit?

Sara wasn’t in the mood to play games, but since she couldn’t see any skulls hanging from anywhere, she knew she had to go along for now. She needed the masked girl to show her where Jack was, and she needed Jack to get to the Calamity Dragon.

A few doors down, the masked girl unhooked a lantern from the wall. “He’s in here,” she said, pushing open a set of double oak wood doors.

The room smelled of old leather and mothballs. The masked girl swept her lantern in a semi-circle. Shadows lurched and danced. In the light, Sara saw rows of ceiling-high shelves, standing two by two from the entrance into the dark.

The masked girl opened the glass screen of her lantern, took out the candle inside and held it to the unlit torches on the wall. Light bloomed, revealing more of the ancient room.

The masked girl repeated this process further down the wall, then once more.

“I’ll do it,” Sara said. With a click of her fingers, every single torch exploded into fire.

“Impatient as always,” said the masked girl. “What is your chaos level?”

“98.”

“You might want to save it.”

Sara shrugged. She followed the girl between two rows of shelves, passing by tomes and scrolls locked behind glass cabinets. They reached the end of the room, where a pedestal stood against the wall. On top of it was a square of glass and inside that was Jack’s skull.

Sara pressed her hand against the glass. It shattered. She reached through to grab Jack.

The skull came alive at her touch.

“Zounds,” Jack cursed, moving his jaw from side to side. “It’s about time you came for me, kid. The boredom was getting so terrible I almost bit off my own tongue to kill myself.”

“Don’t make me regret this,” said Sara, hooking Jack to her belt again.

“I have a favor I would ask of you,” said the masked girl. “Think of it as repayment.”

Sara laughed and raised her sword up to the girl’s neck, just below her mask. “How about I pay you back by not crushing your skull into the ground?”

“That would be unwise,” the masked girl warned. “My sword cuts through obsidian.”

Sara laughed. “Cut the bullshit with that. Who do you think you are, an anime character?”

“Wow,” said Jack. “Since when did you become so confrontational?”

“Quiet, Jack,” both girls said at the same time.

The masked girl raised a finger and gently directed the tip of Sara’s sword away. “It is better for you not to know what is behind this mask. It will only distract you from your meeting with the dragon.”

Sara lowered her weapon. “You’ll bring me to him?”

Leaning down, the masked girl picked up her lantern and started towards the exit. “In time. Let’s start by getting you a sheath first.”

Sara followed the masked girl out of the library, down a flight of stairs, and into a smaller chamber. Here, a leatherworker took one look at her sword, muttered something about looking for trouble, then threw her a length of black cloth.

“Ain’t got nuthin’ that size,” he said. “You want a proper sheath? Should’a took it off the man you stole that needle from.”

The masked girl thanked the man, then directed Sara out into the hall before she could settle on how to mutilate him.

“The King would no doubt like to see you, but his majesty is resting at this hour.”

“You know people say a lot of shit about said King,” said Sara.

“I am aware.” The masked girl showed Sara the stairs to the guestrooms. “Use any as you see fit. I shall send a servant to cater to your needs.”

“No,” said Sara. “No servants. And no king. I owe no one anything.”

“You do not,” agreed the masked girl. “But the only way to open the gate to the Calamity Dragon is by helping Rychard.”

Sara stifled a yawn. A bed and hot bath sounded great right now, but she also couldn’t afford to let her guard down, especially not here. “Fine,” she said, starting up the stairs. At the halfway point, she stopped. “There’s something I want to know.”

The masked girl stood at the bottom, lantern in hand. Inside, the candle had melted all the way through and the ember flickered in the puddle of wax.

“If you know how to get out of here, why haven’t you left?”

As the flame in her lantern grew dim, the girl stepped back from the stairs. Shadows curled around her, consuming her until only her mask remained.

“Because I’ve already failed,” she said, vanishing into the dark.