City of the Sleeping Gods Page 3

  After quickly washing her soup bowl and spoon, Sophia retired to her room at the back of the cabin, shutting the door behind her. She was grateful for the privacy of her own bedroom. Especially on nights when she couldn’t sleep. Although her body was exhausted, her mind raced.

  Instead of lying on her straw mattress, she paced the closet-like space thinking about the grimms and her magical event and Edric Axton, the commander of the city guard. Her thoughts swirled around her head like a tide pool. The images and notions didn’t stay still long enough to ponder their significance. She was too edgy to think straight, let alone sleep. .

  She popped her head out the window. Haris sat beside the cabin waiting for her, wisps of green twirling around his head, as if his thoughts were as chaotic as her own.

  She fastened her black cloak around her neck, and then crawled through the window. She jumped on Haris, and then they took off. Sophia made sure they circled by the scorched meadow to check on the soldiers. She was certain that the pack of grimms wouldn’t return, but she had to make sure she and Haris were safe. Make sure Edric was safe.

  For a few moments, she watched Edric move about, snapping out orders to his men. When his head kept popping up and turning toward her, it was time to go. She couldn’t risk being discovered. If he found her, discovered what she was, he would have no choice but to take her before the duchess, to face a trial, and likely, an execution. That was the law.

  Something inside her wanted to stay and continue to watch him. She was drawn to him, and she didn’t know why. She had so many questions in her mind about her past, her training, her future. Only one thing would help to clear he mind. A long walk.

  She rubbed a hand down Haris’s flank, urging him to run. She didn’t have to tell her friend where to go. He knew their direction. Nighthelm.

  Chapter Four

  Sophia

  Because her dangerous, broken magic had already been spent, Sophia wasn’t worried about walking through the shadowy streets of Nighthelm. She was no longer a danger. Her power would return in a few weeks but, for now, she could safely be around others without incinerating anything or anyone.

  Leaving Haris at the base of the wall on the west side where the shadows seemed deeper, Sophia pulled open the iron grate covering the water way that went under the wall. It was used mainly for runoff, but also served as a secret way into the city.

  Once through, she crouched at the grate for a few more moments before she busted out. After putting the grate back, Sophia crept along the back lanes under the cover of shadows, and then ventured into the city. Like the multiple times she’d traversed through Nighthelm, she made sure to stay hidden. A young woman dressed like a warrior would draw unwanted attention.

  Pressing herself against the back stone wall of a house, Sophia edged around to the front. The lane in front of the row of wealthy homes lay deserted. Music from inside the house drew her attention, and she peered into one of the front windows uncovered by shutters. A young woman, around Sophia’s age, played the piano. Family was gathered around her, attentive and listening. Her parents were smiling, pleased with her performance, and her younger sister sat in a chair nearby, fidgeting with the laces of her dress. The scene looked warm and inviting.

  A pang of envy speared Sophia’s heart. Being part of a family was something she would never have. In fact, she couldn’t even remember her parents. She had no idea if she ever had siblings. It was a complete blank in her mind, and Grindel and the Headmistress never spoke to her about it. Years ago, she’d asked about her family a few times, but they never answered her, so she stopped asking.

  As she watched the girl’s fingers dance across the black and white keys, Sophia imagined that was just one of her many accomplishments. The girl probably painted, did needlework, and was well read on the history of Nighthelm, as all proper, young ladies of courting age were accustomed to. Or what Sophia assumed from the books she’d read on court life in Nighthelm. These things would make the girl an ideal wife for any man. The girl was also pretty with her auburn hair done up into a twist on her head, and fine curls framing her delicate face. It put Sophia’s blond, braided hair to shame. Although Sophia styled it for fighting, and not for courting.

  Sophia couldn’t play an instrument or paint a pretty picture, but she could yield a sword, shoot a gargoyle bat out of the sky with her bow, track game silently through the woods, and best a man twice her size with hand-to-hand combat. But she didn’t think any of those skills would attract a man. She’d resigned herself to never court. She would never marry. She was destined to be alone.

  Shoving the pointless desires deep down inside her, Sophia continued on her journey through the city.

  She approached the merchant section where the houses were stacked together with narrower lanes. She found hiding a little harder here, but Sophia was good at moving as silent as a ghost and melding into the shadows. The black cloak she wore helped as well.

  Slinking along the street, she ducked into the darkened doorway of a chemist shop when three, drunken men stumbled out of the nearby tavern. As they passed her, one of the men tripped on a loose cobblestone, nearly falling. His companions grabbed his arms before he could face-plant onto the ground. They drunkenly laughed at the folly, and then continued on their way.

  Sophia had put her hand over her mouth to stop a bubble of laughter from erupting. That was one thing about her trips to the city: they were always entertaining. Grindel would definitely give her a few lashes if he ever found out about her forbidden visits. She hated he didn’t care if she was lonely. That it was just her and him—sometimes not even him—alone in a rundown cabin in a lonely, dark forest. His only concern was training her for the Headmistress.

  With too many people on the streets, too many curious eyes, Sophia had no choice but to go higher. She grabbed a hold of the black timber along the side of the shop, stepped up onto the window sill, and then pulled herself up to the ledge of the overhang of the second story. Her fingertips sought crevices in the masonry, and then she climbed along the side of the wall until she gripped the gutter on the roof, hauling herself up. Once atop the shop, she smiled and stretched out her arms from the exertion. She preferred being on the roofs anyway. She could see everything stretched out across the city to the mountain, and over the wall to the woods and to the world beyond.

  But looking out over the expanse of the kingdom made her feel lonely, frustrated, and trapped. She hated her life. Hated the future that was chosen for her by the fate of being born broken, the debts she owed to the Headmistress who held Sophia’s life in her hands, who paid for her training in exchange for… what, exactly? Aside from the occasional recon mission, there had never been any favors asked of her, but she knew nothing in life came for free. The debt would come due, and she had a feeling she wouldn’t like the price.

  Sophia often fantasized about running away. She would travel to a new kingdom, like Ondia, which was by the sea. She read about it in a book. There had even been illustrations of the green city. Colored so by the algae and seaweed from the water. Sophia thought of Ondia as a fascinating place she could get lost in. She could reinvent herself. Be a merchant, or a blacksmith as she knew a bit about forging weapons. No one would fear her. Until she had an incident, of course. Which was inevitable. Then she would be hunted.

  No. Running away was not an answer. That would be the coward’s way out. And Sophia was no coward.

  Besides, she would have to leave Haris behind if she ran. And she would never want to do that. He was too special to her. He was truly her only friend, and she knew that he would fight to the death for her.

  A grumbling in her stomach snapped her back to reality, and she wondered if the vendor near the city center park was still open and had honey cakes. They were her favorite sweet, but she rarely ever had the opportunity to eat them. It wouldn’t take much for her to take one without anyone noticing. She would, of course, leave some coins for it, as she was in no way a thief.

  She stood
then walked to the edge of the roof. There wasn’t much of a gap between buildings, so it was a fairly easy jump. Still, she took a few steps back to get a running start. Soon, she leapt from roof to roof, touching only with toes to remain quiet, until she reached the heart of the city, and no more buildings to jump on to. There was only the park. And the oracles that resided there.

  Sophia climbed down from the roof and then tucked herself into the shadows that surrounded the circular plaza. The city had been built around the six, massive oak trees, a face carved into the bark of each one. They were said be have been left by the gods as a gift to mankind before they returned to the mountain for the great slumber. Nighthelm had forever been known as the City of the Sleeping Gods, for that reason. The city was said to be the origin of all known magic in the world.

  Sophia didn’t know the truth of the legend, but she felt power radiating from inside the city walls every time she visited. Sometimes she sensed magic coming from the stone of the walls and buildings themselves.

  Wanting to get closer to the oracles without drawing the guards’ attentions, she crept from shadow to shadow until she was a few feet away, just outside the fence. In two days, on her eighteenth birthday, she would kneel before the six, great trees with reverence and respect and ask for their wisdom. For most, they stayed silent. If a person had greatness inside them, an oracle spoke. And only one or two of the great trees would vocalize. Never more than that. Once, three oracles spoke, and that was for an important king.

  Sophia didn’t expect greatness, but she hoped for something. Surely, her place in the world carried some sort of significance.

  Movement drew her attention. She watched as a young soldier walked past the guards and toward the trees. She recognized him from the academy guard training. His name was Winston, and she knew him to be the son of a general. She’d seen him train once or twice in the yard. He was definitely attractive, with slicked back, brown hair and an aristocratic nose and strong jaw, but he hadn’t impressed her with his fighting ability. She could have easily taken him down.

  He knelt before the oracles, as was custom when turning eighteen. Sophia drew in closer, hoping to hear the oracles speak to him. Because of who Winston was, and his family name, she expected at least one of the trees to speak.

  “Great oracles, I kneel before you and ask for your favor. Speak to me and tell me my great future.” He looked from one tree to the next, frowning.

  From what Sophia had read about the ceremony, if the oracles were to speak, they would almost immediately. It appeared none of them had granted Winston any favor.

  He jumped to his feet, and spat on the ground in front of one of the great oaks. Sophia sucked in a breath at the insult. Winston muttered something under his breath she couldn’t quite hear, but sure it wasn’t complimentary, and then he kicked the base of the tree. A piece of bark broke off under his boot. He turned on his heel and then marched out of the grove.

  Sophia couldn’t believe how insolent he behaved. Disgust filled her over his behavior. Looking at the great tree he insulted, Sophia slipped quietly into the inner circle. Gently, she set her hand on its bark.

  “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s obviously not worthy of your favor. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” She ran her hand up and down, hoping to soothe the wood spirit. “You deserve more respect than that, great one.”

  The bark under her hand began to glow white. At first, she thought one of the guards had approached with a lit torch, but the luminance wasn’t from an outside force. It came from the oracle.

  Afraid she’d injured the tree by her broken magic, Sophia snatched back her hand. The glow faded. She looked around to make sure no one had seen her, or the strange phenomenon, and then slipped back into the shadows. It wouldn’t do if she broke the most historically significant artifact of her people.

  Chapter Five

  Sophia

  While Grindel taught at the academy within Nighthelm, Sophia ran through her basic sword training in a field, full of tall grass and wild flowers, not far from the cabin while Haris watched from his lazy perch on top of a large boulder. His long, green tail swept back and forth mirroring every deft stroke of her sword. She didn’t mind Haris’s company as she trained, but sometimes, she wished she could be the one lazing on the rock. She actually couldn’t remember a day that she’d taken off to just be a girl and not a warrior.

  Although, she didn’t have one clue of what that would entail. She couldn’t see herself sewing new clothes for herself or baking sweet treats for Grindel. She was barely able to make a decent pot of porridge most mornings. At least, according to Grindel.

  Gripping the hilt of her sword tight with two hands, she lunged with the blade. Then she took two steps back and then lunged to the right. She did that move over and over again, alternating between right and left, until her arms shook. There was nothing like a vigorous training session to get the blood pumping. She lowered the sword and wiped at the sweat on her brow. Despite practicing for the past three hours, Sophia still had too much energy to burn off.

  She lifted her sword, took a wide stance, and then twirled her blade with her wrist. She stopped, then reversed it, which was a lot harder to do, as it put more pressure on the wrist. Once she’d done that a few times, she twirled the sword in front of her, the tip of the blade tracing the infinity symbol in the air. This was the training Sophia didn’t display in front of Grindel. He would accuse her of not taking things seriously, or of showing off. Which was kind of what she was doing. But Haris was her only audience, and likely probably ever would be.

  She glanced over at him on the rock. He yawned. Obviously, he wasn’t much of an audience. He didn’t appreciate her skills.

  Balancing the hilt of her sword on the palm of her hand, Sophia flipped it into the air, did a side roll on the ground, then came up, caught the blade, and then lunged as if an attacker was just about to render her in two. She would’ve gotten to him first. She did it again, this time, balancing the sword on its tip. She executed the same move but slipped during her lunge. She ended up on her back, panting hard.

  She stared up at the darkening sky and laughed to herself. It was time for a break.

  She got to her feet. “Let’s go for a walk. Grindel won’t be back for hours.”

  Haris trilled in answer then jumped off the boulder to nudge her in the side. She slid her sword into the scabbard strapped to her back as they set off.

  Together, they walked silently through the croaking woods. Despite all the fear churned up in the city about Witch Woods and the dangers that lurked within, this was Sophia’s home. It was all she knew for the past twelve years, and she was fiercely loyal to its charms, however strange they might have been.

  There were nymph tracks on the path they took; small imprints of human-like feet spaced very close together. Most nymphs traveled in packs and were harmless, so it was a little odd seeing only one set of tracks. It could have been a nymph that was cast out of the community. They could be ruthless in that way. There were also tracks of other small creatures, like hobs, that were likely out looking for moss and mushrooms for dinner, and the usual, harmless rodents. Nothing that Sophia paid much mind to.

  After breaking through a clumping of bushes, Sophia spotted two minotaurs nearby, drinking water from the stream. Thankfully, the creatures didn’t look up as Sophia and Haris quietly passed by, careful not to bother them. Minotaurs could be worrisome. When they were angry enough, they could break through stone. But they were far enough away from Nighthelm’s walls, Sophia didn’t think they’d be a problem. Besides that, she’d never known of a minotaur attack on the city. They were too involved in their own minor squabbles to risk war with humans. Except for that one time with Grindel.

  But she thought that had more to do with Grindel getting involved in minotaur politics, and a discussion between clans. He fancied himself to be some great mediator, but in reality, he’d just put his nose in where it didn’t belong, and one of the clan chieftains t
ook offense to it and had challenged Grindel to a duel. Thankfully, Grindel was a great swordsman, so the duel didn’t last long, and the chieftain had conceded the win. Sophia had enjoyed watching the whole thing. From the shadows, of course. Grindel would’ve tanned her hide if he’d known she had followed him to the meeting in the first place.

  The soft hum of a fairy hive overhead in a nearby tree caught Sophia’s attention. She watched for a moment as two tiny, winged creatures came fluttering out of the sparkling yellow honeycomb. They were beautiful with translucent, pearly wings and hair the color of spun gold, but had teeth like daggers and bites like bee stings. Sophia and Haris gave the hive a wide berth. Sophia had been bit before by one of the little buggers and didn’t want a repeat performance. Haris snorted in the direction of the hive as they passed. He too had been on the receiving end of the fairies’ wraths.

  Sophia stopped cold on the path and rubbed at her sternum. In her chest came an intuitive impulse to hide. Seconds later, the thunder of horses echoed through woods. She slipped into a small clump of trees with Haris before a cavalry rushed by on powerful, black stallions.

  Upon the horses rode wraith shifters dressed in black and silver uniforms. They were some of the Nighthelm army’s best and most fearsome fighters. She’d watched them train over the years and they were unlike anything else she’d ever seen. They could move like the wind and strike like lightning. Her respect for them was endless.

  They were likely a patrol from the castle, sent to keep the Witch Woods under control after the grimms episode and her power display he night before, but not even they went out often at night. Their presence intrigued her.

  Two patrols in as many nights. She really hoped it wasn’t going to become common place. However much Sophia enjoyed her visits to Nighthelm, the woods was her home. And she hadn’t really learned how to share graciously.