Bladeshire 7

By David C. Daoust

She was there again in the dark, spiraling staircases stretched above, below. It was a tower of darkness. That is what she thought of it, what she named it. She had found herself here on several occasions, forever climbing; climbing until she found a point to leave. Every time she awoke, she found herself in a different place.

Lost time, it had actually been happening for quite a while.

It started as just a few minutes, here and there. No real difference from when she left and when she came to. Occasionally she would simply be further away from where she was. Several times while doing chores, she would awaken and find herself elsewhere—the job half done. She called them blackouts. She dare not tell anyone what was happening. She thought they may think she was crazy, or sick. She did not know who to trust.

The blackouts started to get her in trouble. There was no way to know when it would strike. She was accused, often, of just being lazy. Or that her mind could not focus on a task. She started to believe it. She did not know what came over her, again and again. But it was true, she had to admit it was true; mid-chore, she would just up and wander off. Although, such a diagnosis would make much more sense if she had a memory of the decision.

That is how it started, intermittent blackouts. Eventually, however, the times between consciousness grew longer. Entire mornings turned to missing days and soon after that, she started to find herself here…. In the tower.

The tower never made sense to her, not at first. It was a spiral of stairs into the darkness. She would just start climbing, up and up, eventually she would remember about the windows. As soon as she did, they would appear at certain intervals. Through the windows she witnessed the most extraordinary city—honestly, she had never dreamt such a place existed. She could only wonder where it might be in the world, and who lived in such a place.

The tower was dead center of this city. It was a distant landscape though; any people were like ants. Her inability to interact with them, made them more like paintings… like she was wandering through a gallery, not windows at all.

She would wander from window to window, until, at last, she would remember about the doors. Soon after she would find one. This was the place she could leave. Where she could rejoin her life.

She remembered the last time she exited through a door– it landed her in Redcap Creep! She found her dog, Abe, chasing along behind her—barking uproariously at her. Until she turned to calm him. This was not welcome and sent the old dog scurrying backwards. She did not know what could have gotten into him. The mastiff slipped back into the mud, too close to the water’s edge. She had to act quickly to save him— Luckily, she managed to position herself over a knot of roots erupting from the murky ground, but the dog, well she barely had a grip on him.

Surprisingly, Braidon appeared to help…

The two of them got into trouble. Not just her father, the Baron himself, found them where they really should not be. She did not know what to say beyond that she was chasing after Abe. She said this despite the fact the barking dog was clearly following her.

Lost in the tower, the door was before her.

It was different this time, she did not have a choice. She was forcibly pulled through. The darkness snapped away, bright light of day surrounded her. She was, just as quickly, thrown back. It was disconcerting. Abruptly, she was stuck in place… mid-air. frozen.

This was more frightening than the Tower of Darkness.

It was like she just figured out she was in a dream but could not wake up. The only solace was Khadory being there, in an odd half crouch, but she had to imagine she was positioned even more strangely.

He faced her, frozen as well. She could see over his shoulder… she could see the Bobcat over his right shoulder clawing through the trees above… positioning itself—but for what?

Darwood Bobcat’s were large, big as a mastiff really. But they were not known to hunt humans.

As a general rule, the further east one travelled the bigger things became. Everything was large, dangerous. Not as big as the eels… or the snails even. With the thought of the snails– she realized what had happened.

They must have disturbed a Giant Snail!

She could not move, she could not see what was behind her, or anything outside her peripheral… but she could see the bobcat. White underbelly, reddish fur with darker spots spread over the coat. Black tufts at its ear and black-tipped club of a tail. Huge green eyes studied the scene intelligently. It was perched in the branches, ready to pounce even.

Chantilles could not scream, yell, or warn— but the cat suddenly leapt.

Maybe it saw a moment of weakness, a chance to dine for free… it did not matter, because as soon as it came within distance, it suddenly froze midair.

As still as Khadory, as frozen as she.

What a sight they must have made.