Issue #70: Gold and Glory
(Part 4)
Willow loped back up the hill with a sureness of footing that would bring a deer to shame. She bolted through the opening in the wall and to her horse, a look of mixed determination and panic in her eyes. “Close the wall back up!” Already,s he was swinging up into her saddle. Picking up on its mistress’s emotions, the horse danced sideways and snorted unhappily. “We need to get out the gates before we lose her!”
And then she was off, though with enough sense not to spur her horse into a gallop in the narrow alley.
Christina and the Sorceress shared a look, or would have if not for the Sorceress’s shrouded visage, and gave chase. It was only at the North Gate that they finally caught up to Willow, who was forced to slow down and negotiate a crowd of workers on their way back out of the city following their midday meals.
“Where is the Princess?” asked the Sorceress.
“She wouldn’t wait for me.” Wil said with annoyance. “We’ll have to hope she’ll wait for us once she reaches the woodman’s daughter.”
“The healer?” The Sorceress tilted her head in confusion. “What happened? Is she hurt?”
“No, but the Sneak Thief was.” explained Wil as they managed to ride free of the throng and onto the open road. May’s roads were paved with shaped stone and cared for by teams of workers, making travel along them swift.
“Oh.” the Sorceress said flatly.
The loud hum of her chariot’s innards reminded them that Christina was still with them, keeping up with ease. “Oh, what? I’ve heard of the Sneak Thief: the one that steals from criminals and crooked merchants, but what does he have to do with anything.”
The Sorceress stared at her for a long moment. “You don’t engage in much gossip, do you?”
“Not as such.”
Wil sighed. “They’re all only rumors anyhow. The Queen sent the Princess to deal with him when he first appeared, but thus far he’s eluded capture. That’s all.” She would have sounded more believable if she hadn’t laughed nervously.
“That is all.” said the Sorceress with a barely suppressed laugh. “Unless you believe what the old fishwives say about seeing the Princess in her winged form kissing a man who fits the description of the Sneak Thief beneath the wharf.”
“They would never be so careless.” Willow said distractedly, scanning the sky while still steering where she suspected Cyn was headed. One or twice, she thought she saw a glimmer of gold in the sky, but there were too many clouds and they were too low to be certain.
At this, the Sorceress smirked in Christina’s direction.
“Okay…” said the Neo-Deviser, “But what’s that got to do with where we’re headed now?”
Wil seemed to come back to herself upon hearing that. “Oh. Well I suppose its fine to tell you—your husband knows anyway. But I should say it isn’t a romance, not really. Cyn is the one who realized that everyone the Sneak Thief steals from earned their coin nefariously. After that, she couldn’t take him in, but refused to loose face. The entire chase is like a game to them now and I’d say they both enjoy it and their banter.”
She frowned and cast her gaze to the skies again. “She considers him a friend… maybe more, but after what we found today, that might be at an end.”
“Just what was it you found?” asked Christina.
“His satchel. Right at the bottom of the hill from the hidden entrance to the city with spots of blood on it.” Wil shook her head. “He’s the one that stole the Neo-Device; and it looks like the moment he brought it back to whoever sent him to do it, they attack him.”
Christina scowled. “Sounds like it serves that bastard right, putting the kingdom in danger for gold like that. But why would he walk five miles with an injury to get to the woodsman’s daughter when he could have gone back into the city and found a barber surgeon?”
“That’s simple.” said the Sorceress. “Cyn’s turning a blind eye or not, Sheriff Liedecker’s made the Sneak Thief public enemy number one. You know how he is: no one makes a name for themselves through crime in his town. Even a small injury would mean he’d be less able to avoid Liedecker’s men, and most barbers would turn him in for the reward.”
Willow bobbed her head in agreement. “The woodsman’s daughter on the other hand…”
***
‘Healing, Herbal Remedy, Cleansing of the Soul. No questions asked.’
The sign was tacked to a post at the head of a winding dirt lane that snaked through the tress off the Old North Road out of the city, leading up a hill to a log cabin built into the side of a hill. A curl of smoke rose from the cabin’s brick chimney and a second came from a flue dug out of the top of the hill. The flue issued smoke year-round, often carrying alien scents.
The hillside had been converted into a garden with trellises and stakes encouraging vines while wooden planter boxes elevated carefully cultivated herbs. What fruits and vegetables grew on those plants were, as a rule, unwise to ingest without proper preparation, as they were to a one medicinal.
Cyn, followed the road from the air. She was in one of her favorite forms: a woman of gold with wings like a gigantic eagle. In her hands, she clutched the satchel, and in her heart, she held kindling rage.
The buzzing noise of the tinker’s strange chariot carried far on the clear autumn day, but she could tell that her traveling companions were some distance away yet when she finally landed at the front of the cabin.
Once on the ground, she took a moment to orient herself. It wasn’t every day that she pushed herself so hard in flying and her head started swimming when a rush of fresh oxygen came in and her adrenaline ebbed. Everything that had been so clear outside the city and even in the air became muddled.
“Me and that jackass?” she said aloud, trying to use her wings for balance. “And since when was Jun badass enough to be my bodyguard?” Things didn’t add up. She was fighting with Tink again after she’d worked so hard to get over it and Laurel was her mother? Granted, she liked that last one and it was the truth in everything but official records, but that was between the two of them.
But back to the matter at hand: she did not like the Sneak Thief. It wasn’t one of those ‘he is not my boyfriend’ things where she really liked him in secret; she disliked him, plain and simple. He was cocky, annoying and seemed to take joy in making her suffer some cartoonish humiliation with every meeting. Plus, she had a boyfriend who wasn’t any of those things.
A boy friend… whose name she couldn’t remember.
The satchel suddenly felt heavy in her hands and she looked down at it. The blood was still there; what hadn’t been dry before was thanks to the flight to the cabin.
Blood. His blood. The Sneak Thief was hurt. He was hurt and he had also betrayed her and all of the Kingdom of May. Grudgingly, she’d forgiven his pranks and his vigilante thieving, but this was treason. Not just treason, but the kind of treason that might get her friends or her mother killed. And that was something the Princess wouldn’t stand for.
Princess?
“Hell yeah, I’m the motherfuc…” she started, then wondered where that came from. Clearing her throat, she pushed it aside, focusing on how she would first make sure the Sneak Thief had survived his employer’s betrayal, then she would see just how far up his ass her boot would go.
All that talk he’d spouted at her about cleaning up Mayfield from the other side of the equation had been a lie. Every time he’d made her laugh, and all those talks in the dark hours of the night were nothing. It had all been to make Castle Freeland’s protector lower her guard for the sucker punch.
Now it made her stomach churn when she thought of all the times she wondered what he looked like under his mask and then under the rest of his clothes. To say nothing of all the private fantasies she’d had of one day turning the tables on him, yanking that mask up, then giving him a forceful kiss that would rob him of all that damnable agility for once.
The sound of claws piercing leather woke her from her ruminations. She’d worked herself into a fine state of rage and the Amulet d’Fac’smil had obligingly given her claws to go with it. Quickly shifting those away, she turned her attention back to the cabin door. It was stout and bound in iron (no doubt Warrick’s work) with a brass knocker that hung from the mouth of a gruesome gargoyle.
Cyn lifted the ring and put considerable strength into clapping it against the wood, making the door jump on its hinges and strain against the bolt keeping it locked. After long seconds, there came the sound of the bolt being pulled, and the door opened enough for the occupant to peer outside.
The woodsman’s daughter had started as a joke from the days when she was a peer of the Queen. The other three were nobles while Melissa was simply ‘the woodsman’s daughter’. Enough nobles and members of the merchant class had used it to refer to her that soon that was how she was known throughout the kingdom, even after she became bound to the Star of Hope, one of the most powerful Devices.
It was the Star, which hung from a chain of silver beads across her brow so that it rested just above the bridge of her nose, that kept her young, looking no older than Cyn. Even at rest, the pure white diamond seemed to glow with inner light that had a calming effect on Cyn.
For a very long time, the Star was thought to be a healing Device, but in recent years, the true extent of its power had become known: with it, Melissa could control the biological systems of any living thing. By her will, folk could be made stronger and faster, be rid of maladies they carried since birth, and be cured of any illness.
Only the royal family and Melissa’s old contemporaries knew the truth, and that was why she had moved outside the city: to hide her true power behind the chicanery of supposed folk remedies made from plants and leaves. Some of her tonics and potions worked, but when they failed, she made up a ‘miracle brew’ and used the Star instead.
“I knew you would be here sooner or later.” Melissa said dryly. Being one of the Queen’s friends exempted her from having to show respect to any mere noble in private. This was for the best, as she wasn’t usually inclined to be anything approaching it to anyone who hadn’t earned it.
Cyn narrowed her eyes, wondering if there was anyone in the universe who didn’t think they could mouth off to the Princess. But returning the favor might get her in trouble with her mother, so she let it go this time. “So I take it he’s here?”
Melissa didn’t make a move to open the door any further. “He always comes here when he gets hurt. Where else would he go with the sizable sum Liedecker has on his head?”
“I’m about to collect on it.” said Cyn. It was satisfying to see surprise crease the other woman’s face. “This isn’t like all the other times, Melissa. This time he broke into Castle Freeland and he stole a very dangerous Neo-Device: something that could doom the kingdom.”
This however, did not invoke surprise in the healer.
“He told me.”
“I couldn’t believe it either.” said Cyn, following the script laid out in her head before what she’d heard registered. “Wait: he told you? And you’re—I thought you were Mother’s friend. How can you be so calm about this?! The thing he stole puts us all in danger!”
Melissa lifted her chin. “I’m upset, yes. But not with him. And I’m not letting you in here until you give me your word that you’ll let him tell the tale. It’s important that you listen if you want to—“ It was too late. The Princess touched the Amulet d’Fac’smil and collapsed into a puddle of golden liquid that surged through the crack and into the cabin before Melissa could think to close the door.
Once inside, she resumed her everyday appearance and the cloths she’d been wearing earlier. She turned to smirk at Melissa, telling her exactly what she thought of attempts at extorting promises from her.
“Insolent brat.” Melissa muttered, turning. She was dressed in a homespun dress and an apron of fine, white linen that was stained with the herbs and poultices she dealt in. Her long, red hair was done up in a tight braid that snaked down her shoulder. This, she tugged on in her frustration.
Cyn looked around. The cabin was just as she remembered. The main room was cavernous; a high roof to accommodate a loft in back where Melissa slept. Downstairs were shelves of bottled herbs, hanging racks of various things set to dry, and long tables lined with the various bowls, pestles, grinders and steeping pots of her trade. There was also a large hearth with a black iron pot boiling on a hook over the fire.
Beneath the loft was another iron-bound door leading into the hill. In the cool underground there would be cells blocked off from one another by a thick curtain: the sick rooms. One of them would house the Sneak Thief. Cyn started towards it, only to find Melissa’s hand grasping her shoulder.
“There are sick people back there.” She warned.
“My Device protects me.” Cyn shrugged the hand off. “And I won’t have to disturb any of them if you tell me where the traitor is.”
“I’d already told you: there is more to the story than you know. You can’t go in there ready to smite him. What happened isn’t his fault.”
Cyn rounded on her. “Not his fault? It’s not his fault that he broke into the castle? It’s not his fault that he took money to steal from Mother?”
“Y’know, I didn’t get around to any of that, actually.” The voice came from the door leading back to the sick rooms. It had been pulled open silently and now, standing in the frame, half in shadow, stood the Sneak Thief. He was dressed in his usual close fitting black leather jerkin, black silk undershirt and black cotton pants, but there was a slash across his left side that went through the jerkin and shirt to reveal the white of fresh bandages. Similar cuts were made across his thighs and upper arms.
Without a word more, Cyn turned and launched herself at him. Injury and medication for pain made it so he couldn’t escape when she grabbed his collar, hauled him out of the hall, and slammed him up against the nearest shelf, making all the jars upon it jump and clatter.
“You bastard!” She snarled in his face.
“Exactly as I told you it would happen.” he groaned to Melissa. His teeth were gritting against the pain and tears welled in his eyes, wetting his mask. “Now I know you’re excited to see me, Cyn but—”
“Princess. To you, I will be addressed as ‘Princess’.”
“Now that’s very, very cold considering how long we’ve known each other and been on good terms.” Cyn slammed him against the shelf again, making him cry out. His demeanor remained unchanged. “Alright, point made Princess. If you could… not do that again though? I’m still quite tender…”
Now he widened an eye dramatically. It was one of his little theatrical flourishes he used to use on her in the old days of their relationship just before he sprung one of his pranks on her. Only this time it was no bit of alchemy or other trick gadget. Instead, he unleashed something far more effective: words. “You know, from where the real thief stabbed me when I was trying to get your bauble back for you.”
About Vaal
Landon Porter is the author of
The Descendants and
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Fantasy IS my first love – I only got into superhero fiction by finding works such as your own on the internet – so if there was any re-imagining of the Descendants that would catch my attention… I’m intrigued with where you’re going with this. 😛
The missing piece of the classic adventuring party is of course the audience-relatable plucky* youngster with no relevant skills or abilities who constantly endangers everyone with their pluckiness but whom everyone recognizes as the greatest hero of the group after they save the day through sheer blind luck and ridiculously contrived circumstance.
[* Dictionaries define ‘plucky’ as meaning brave or spirited, but nowadays it’s mostly used to mean an annoying liability. If you ever meet a person described as plucky in real life, run for the hills and hope they don’t follow.]
close, but no cookie I say.
We’ve got the dps, the rogue, the mage… we need a tank! Enter the Honorable Sir Kane, Knight of the Alloyed Whips
I suppose I show my D&D influences when I say that I saw the party as fighter, rogue (actually a ranger, but close enough) and mage, meaning the last member would be a cleric for that perfect quatuor.
Trying to imagine Melissa as a fantasy character makes me laugh.
That’d work too… work amazingly… we’d probably get some sort of Granny Weatherwax approach to healing. ‘I’ll make you feel better. I won’t make you feel welcome’
It’s just I’d be shocked to have a Cyn focus without Warrick 😛
Kura?
“The Tank is DPS! The Tank is DPS! Fifteen bucks a month to put up with this mess.” ~ Nhym
So glad you guys are on board with this. I was slightly worried I’d wake up to an inbox full of ‘WHAT DID YOU DO?!’ :p
Getting a feeling like when I watched Buffy the Musical – don’t quite know what’s going on, but expect it to be a lot of fun.
I really like it. Lots of subtle reveals going on too.
We get to see lots of warm fuzzies about Cyn and Laurel and assuming the powers work the same way despite being artefacts, we get to have a few more insights on the mystery that is Facsimile
It cool. I like this re-imagining of This Descendants.
Words are very
Unnecessary
They can only do harm.
Nonetheless, there’s a plan.
(Apologies to Depeche Mode.)
Oh my gosh! Le twist!
I’ve always wanted to do this:
dun dun DUN
I think I’m the only one not liking the medieval thing. The story itself is interesting, but I’d rather you didn’t obscure the actual plot behind the imaginary setting. It just feels extremely unnecessary. And Willow being relegated to a background role is just insulting to her character. If it has to be anyone, why not Melissa? She’d have useful healing “fieldcraft”, and be snarky enough to make conversations interesting. In the real setting, of course it’d have to be Zero, but making her less a sidekick than an occasionally useful servant is just wrong.
I understand your issues and I can promise you that they will all be addressed. Not to give too much away, but there’s more to this tale than meets the eye initially, and Wil is most certainly not going to relegated to the background.
I actually expected more people to have problems with this because I don’t usually do something this… weird… but I hope you’ll stick with it because I feel it has one hell of a payoff.
Oh snap! Cyn is an idiot, letting her emotions get the better of her, as usual. And this time even Melissa told her to listen!
Seems to me Melissa was more of an idiot there to just talk about ‘listening to his story’ without any mention of anything relevant like “it wasn’t him” which apparently was the main gist of the story. The fact she didn’t mention a convincing reason why his story would matter essentially implies there isn’t one.
Every villain has some sob story about why they’ve done whatever, and there’s always someone soft-hearted who’ll accept it as an excuse.
I’m more partial to ‘evil speeches of evil’ [Where the villains asserts why it’s totally okay to be evil] than sob stories.
Yeah those are cooler, but sadly not every villain has one of those prepared.
Is Cyn going crazy? She was slipping in and out of her fantasy character for a minute there. I’m assuming this is the payoff that was mentioned, but that threw me for a minute.
It’s a bit more complex than that. If I posted the name of Part 2, I think it would explain a lot.
And that name i[REDACTED]
Next Issue: Descendants #71 – Yellow
“…a zweihänder in a concealed crossbow.”
Can’t be sure with all the gunblades and whatnot in media these days, but I think that should be and.
“… the blade sheered through…”
Sheared is the one you want there. The two are confused almost as often as hoard (stockpile) and horde (large group of irate nomads).
“…above the earth, heat the call…”
Heed.