Dancing With Death is the sixth in the Tales of The Lesser Evil and this is the tenth and final chapter.
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This is a fantasy series—not quite grimdark, but dark nevertheless—with complicated and believable characters doing their best to survive in a world simply indifferent to their existence.
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Flashes of the Night
‘…and then a sailor told me to head to The End, to find work there.’
The flask was long empty and Flin was thirsty. She had told the whole story, of how she had arrived in Youlbridge, and how she had fled, the death of Kadan, meeting Lang, and then parting to find her home and her travels since. She felt tired.
‘And what now? Will you stay on Taura Furnace longer?’
Flin thought for a moment and shook her head.
‘No, or at least, not that much longer. It is time to move on. My friends, Shint, Niffen, and Ounell were also talking of leaving.’
‘You will go with them? Where?’
‘South. We want to see more of the islands. For me, using The Ribbon makes sense in the search for my home. It is an edge of the world, from what I understand, like the ice to the north and the ice to the south, no one can pass through to the other side. Can you?’
Leaf was silent for a moment, a look of pain on her face, deep, old pain.
‘No. I cannot. When the Ribbon was created during The Breaking, some of my closest friends, no!’ She paused, ‘Closer, they are closer—they are family of a sort. We were separated, some on one side, some on this with me.’
‘But that was thousands of years ago! How old are you?’ Flin was shocked. She had known the woman was older than she looked, had known from what she had already said, but timescales like that seemed too outlandish, too far-fetched to be real or plausible.
‘Much, much older than I look, and probably even older still. I told you, we have a way to stay sane, to stay who we are. One day, maybe, we will talk more about this.’
‘Will you not travel with me, with us?’
‘No. I think, from what you have told me, that I should travel to Youlbridge. It seems there are things I need to see there, and I have not been to that corner of the world for a long time. Yes. I will go far east, as you travel to the south.’
‘Did the sun really once rise in the west and set in the east?’
Leaf laughed at the question. The woman seemed reassuringly human, despite all she had said and done.
‘That depends on how you look at it. If you set the fact that the sun always rises in the east and sets in the west, then no. But, if you look at a compass and accept that if you face the rising sun, then north is on your left, then yes, for a time, I suppose it did. In reality, it’s a little more complex than that. Lang is the one to ask, when next your paths cross. He is far more of a scientist than I am. Or Erland. He records things, many things. He’ll probably know. I am a hunter and a warrior, there’s little else for me, although I do enjoy the simple pleasures in life too.’ She smiled at Flin.
‘Do you think I will see Lang again? I’d like that. He really did save my life and he never once asked for anything in return.’
‘I hope you do. And I hope it is under better circumstances. There’s every chance you will. As I said earlier, much depends on how things happen, on what you do, the road you take. Now, here, I think you should keep this,’ she held out the ring, but Flin did not reach for it.
‘No. I don’t think I can. I don’t think I want it, knowing what it was used for, what—who—used it.’
‘Very well. That is something I need to talk to you about, however. In a moment. First, tell me, do you want me to take any message to your friends in Youlbridge?’
Flin’s eyes tightened briefly, the woman was being considerate, not adding the fact that there was every chance the Maze Fighter had burnt to the ground, with everyone she knew inside it.
‘Yes. Please. If you do see them, please tell Sarah and Mariea that I made it out from under the city. Tell them what happened—I told you it all, you decide what to pass on. I tried to have a message sent, paying for a writer and stamped-passage, but I do not know if it would have made it. I do not even know whether Youlbridge is still standing.’
‘Most cities are more resilient than you may imagine. I have known of cities which have burnt on many occasions, and yet still thrive for thousands of years. They are strange things, cities, they are humanity made into an organism of its own, the people who live there the lifeblood, the buildings the bones, organs, and muscles. After all this time, they fascinate me still.’
Beside them, Mart stirred, but did not wake.
‘I think it is nearly time we move along, Flin,’ Leaf said.
She had remained close as Flin had told her tale and, as she stood, Flin felt a strange sense of parting, of loss.
‘You should get paid for this,’ Flin waved back at the entrance to the tunnel where the once-woman now slept, entombed behind rock and stone.
‘No, it is best Mart and you receive the pay. I do not need it. I’ll make sure you do. Now, as I said, we need to do something about, all this.’ She gestured to herself and the tunnel Flin had pointed to.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Remember how I said it was easier for me to deal with a healthy mind, one not full of terror?’
‘Flin! How’s your head?’ Shint asked, kindly keeping his rich voice a touch quieter than usual.
‘I am never drinking again. And I am certainly not trying any other fungi.’ She sat down opposite him, the smaller of the two taprooms in The End empty but for him.
Omena entered and smiled at them, returning moments later with a large jug of water.
‘I shall cook some eggs and bacon. My father swore it is the only cure for a hangover. Cook has the day off, we’ll be closed today as people nurse their heads and pay their respects to the dead.’
She left the room, still smiling.
‘That’s more words than I’ve ever heard her say,’ Shint said.
‘Oh, she can talk, she just prefers to listen. Now,’ Flin groaned and poured herself some water, cursing as she moved too quickly, head sending a fresh pounding through her temples, ‘I have some gaps in my memory. What happened last night?’
Shint laughed, and there was nothing quiet about it.
Flin winced in response, which only caused him to laugh more. She could not help smiling, despite feeling like she wanted to die.
‘We danced and laughed and partied Flin! Even more, after the news came through! You don’t remember at all?’ He reached down to the bench beside him and handed her a leather bundle.
She took it, and unwrapped a long coat.
‘Mart! I remember him, remember meeting him. He was hunting the killer, the man who had been murdering people.’
‘Yes!’
She felt something heavy in a pocket and withdrew a purse which she untied and peered into. It held a considerable amount of silver and gold.
‘He left, didn’t he?’ She was beginning to recall flashes of the night, of meeting Mart, then a pursuit and fight somewhere deep beneath the earth. She remembered after, when they had split the purse, Mart insisting she receive a half share, as she had helped him confront the killer, even throwing her own knife to stop him fleeing at one point.
‘Yes, he met a sailor who was on a vessel leaving for Mamak this morning and they left together. He gave me his coat and your purse, thought you were too drunk to keep hold of it safely. Seemed a decent, brave man. I can’t tell you how happy people are, now that the killer is dead. I guess tomorrow, once word has spread further, and heads are less sore, there will be more drinking, more celebrating.’
Flin smiled. She still could not remember the details, the drink and mushrooms clearly burying them in a haze.
‘There’s a lot of money here.’
‘Yes, there is. Do you remember what we talked about, after getting back?’
Flin thought, hard. She remembered staggering down the steps and considering sliding down the scaled serpent at their centre, before Shint and Ounell had talked her out of it, pointing out how the scales went the wrong way for that. Before that, she remembered dancing and drinking. Lots of dancing and drinking.
‘Remind me.’
‘We talked of leaving soon, of booking passage today—to leave at the next full moon. Do you still want to do that? We talked of exploring the Ribbon, of heading south.’
‘I remember! You said we should use our pay to book a private cabin, on a longer voyage, spend the time working on new songs, trying new things.’
‘Yes, I did. I think it would be time well spent.’
‘I agree.’ Flin took another long gulp of water. She was slowly beginning to feel a little more alive, so much so that the scent of cooking bacon made her feel hungry, rather than want to vomit.
‘So we head down to the offices at the harbour later?’
‘Yes. We will. Why didn’t Mart want to come with us? I remember him saying he wanted to leave the island.’
‘Something to do with a story he had heard of, something north of Mamak, in the Drowning. He left the coat for you, said he thought it suited you better.’
She looked at the coat again, remembering how it had hidden weapons beneath, how it had flapped when he had chased after the killer. A thought flew across her mind, then was gone and she frowned.
‘My head is like a mouldy, holey cheese. There are gaps everywhere. I really am never drinking again.’
Shint laughed again.
‘I’m going to go see if Niffen and Ounell are awake yet, and get them up if they aren’t. There’s a whole day we have free and, look,’ he pointed at the window Flin had been avoiding, the light too intense for her eyes, ‘the sun is out!’
Flin smiled. She had yet to see full sunlight on the island.
There was a mild shaking and creaking from the timbers of the inn.
‘That’s the third time today. Albin thinks Taurie is awakening again. You know him though, he is adamant The End will be fine, that it’s stood here for a thousand years.’ He left the room, singing softly to himself, Flin following him with her eyes, down and up again. He really was a remarkably handsome man.
The shaking returned, then stopped again. Why did it remind her of something? A scent of some sort. She held the leather coat to her face, inhaled, and frowned. It was close, but not that.
She swirled the coins around in the purse and noticed a ring hidden at the bottom. It was old and worn, but pretty, and she slipped it on a finger. Something else tickled at her mind, something hidden behind the veil the alcohol and mushrooms had cast: the ring, the coat—each a clue, a step to the truth.
For some reason, she could recall the scent of leather mixed with oil and fresh sweat, something about tattoos and a sword, strong arms holding her tight and safe. She felt she almost had it, then the door opened and Omena arrived with her breakfast. She smiled at her friend and pointed to the bench opposite, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow, Omena smiled back, nodding.
Flin laid the purse to one-side and, as she did so, the hidden memory and tickling sensation vanished entirely, as though they had never existed.
Outside, the sun shone on Taura Furnace.
Flin, and many of the other characters, locations, and ideas I’ve shared in The Tales of The Lesser Evil will return in a longer work, tentatively a trilogy, wrapped in the title of The Lesser Evil.
Before that, however, I will share a further two tales in the series, both of which I am currently editing. One will be a novel, the other shorter, each featuring characters and places already introduced in the previous stories, along with some new faces, names, and settings.
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Many thanks for reading Dancing With Death. This story will remain free to read until I begin to share the next one.
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Ooh, this was so good, and really did feel like a taster to a longer work. I’m gonna have to figure out how to read the earlier stories, but for now it’s back to my inbox.